This one time when we still used to have sheep, my father was suddenly gored by one of our young adult rams. He screamed out aloud in pain, and in the next second, Röskva, our eldest Great Pyrenees, was there and tore into the ram’s throat, killing it quick and swiftly. My father was to be said, pretty damn astounded, and we still have the ram’s skull on display outside. It has been five years since then, and oddly enough, not all the skin, like the lips, have rotted away yet. My father still holds a bit of a grudge towards the ram till this day.
- Carole Glasser Langille, from “When You’re Not Here and When You Are,” Late in a Slow Time (Mansfield Press, 2003)
- Old Scottish saying (via the-realm-of-naeranira)