A warm welcome to those who have stumbled upon my ramblings.
Anyone who has read these posts for some time, knows that my paternal grandmother lived in Westerville, OH. She didn't live right in it, but on the outskirts. This meant that there were some things nearby that you wouldn't find in many cities. Sheep.
Her across the street neighbor, Mr. Belvedere, owned the property beside her. On the large section in front was a plot that he rented to grandma to put in a garden. I can remember watching her push a hand plow to break up the soil. As long as she was able, she always put in a large garden, and canned the harvest thereof.
On the large section of this land stood a small enclosure that housed a couple dozen sheep. Mr. Belvedre would shear the sheep and sell the wool. He always talked very low, whether it was to people or sheep. Those sheep knew his voice.
One day, I was outside dumping the table scraps into the compost pile. There were a few things that didn't want to come out of the pan, so I banged it on the nearby swing set. Suddenly the whole flock of sheep came running toward the shelter. I thought that was really bizarre.
The next day, I took a stick and hit the swing set a couple of times. The sheep came running. After a bit, they went back into the field. I banged on the swing set. The sheep came running. That was really cool.
I guess Mr. Belvedere saw what I had done and called Grandma. She told me not to tease the sheep. I couldn't figure out how I was teasing the sheep. I didn't ask about it, I just said OK.
Later that day, I was outside and I heard what sounded like someone banging a couple of pans together. I looked over toward the noise to see Mr. Belvedere walking to the sheep enclosure and all the sheep running toward him. When he banged the pans together, the sheep knew it was time to eat. That's why they ran to the enclosure when I banged on the swing set.
A few days later, Grandma's tiny, little dog, Jock, was into the sheep pasture eating sheep poop. I stood at the fence and hollered for him. Then I heard my name being called. Grandma wanted to know what I was doing at the fence. I told her that I was trying to keep Jock from eating sheep poop. She thought I was teasing the sheep again. She was planning to scold me for that.
One day, Ricky (one of the kids that helped to dig the cave), convinced me to sneak into the pasture and chase the sheep. It was great fun until Mr. Belvedere saw us and started hollering at us. We hightailed it to the back of the pasture and cut through the woods to the back of Ricky's house. I got in some big trouble for that and had to apologize to Mr. Belvedere and promise to leave his sheep alone.
Many years after Mr. Belvedere passed, his wife sold their house to the neighboring Catholic church/school. She had a house built where the sheepfold once stood. She lived there until she also passed.