The Black Sheep of Bloomsbury

I don't normally get to see much animal life here in the Big Smoke. Pigeons, mostly, and the occasional squirrel. Also a lot of guide dogs, since there's an institute for the blind across the road. But recently, I discovered a pair of sheep. Big, black, woolly sheep, with long woolly tails. They are, sometimes, to be seen in Coram's Fields, in the small patch of grass between the outer fence and the... er... some kind of building that runs down that side of the field. Presumably the rest of the time, they are in the inner field - possibly? - or in the building itself, which could be animal pens. Coram's Fields is a nursery school and I guess maybe they have a mini-petting farm type arrangement. Or maybe the sheep are there to keep the lawn mowed. Whatever. Sheep. In London. How odd.

Now today I am particularly pleased with these sheep - to be known henceforth as Ewe and Ewe Too - because they finally acknowledged my existence. Well, one of them did. Every time I see them (not that often) I stop, offer a few friendly words about the weather, the usual. But they're proper London sheep, they give me that 'look, fook off, alright?' stare, and I duly fook off.

Not today, though. Today, Ewe saw me and took a few steps forward, before she remembered herself. Stopped. Looked suspicious. So I crouched down to get onto eye level, and explained that no, I didn't have any food, but she could come talk to me anyway. So she did. Not actually talk, that is, this not being Babe in the City, but she came over and offered her head for scratching. Then she really liked that - pressed her chin down into my hand, looked very happy - so she turned sidelong to the fence and pressed up to it, inviting me to make nice. Much happy petting and scratching ensued. (And the lady is absolutely filthy, I'm sorry to say, very sticky coat.) She was very sorry to see me go, and I hope she'll remember me next time and come for some more attention.