Zelda came to us as a gift from Darryl, our friend and a farmer. He gave Zelda to Maria to kick off her sheep flock for the yarn she means to sell next Spring. Zelda, he said, was a great sheep, a show animal. She is a great sheep. She is the smartest sheep I have ever known and she has caused me and Red and Maria more trouble than all of the sheep I have ever had. She is wicked smart for a sheep, a leader and guard sheep and a master schemer and breakout artist. She is incorrigible.

The first thing Zelda did when she came to Bedlam Farm was jump the fence to be with the old sheep on the other side. We got her back in she jumped the fence again. We barricaded it and she found another place to jump. We left her alone. When the old sheep left and we tried to separate her, she knocked all of us down. When I first introduced her to Red, she ran right over him, not just once but two or three times. On the third effort, he grabbed onto some fleece and hung on for dear life as she dragged him around the pasture. Then, for good measure, she ran over me, knocking me down, sending me flying. During our sheepherding training, she broke into barns, knocked down cans, gave Red fits. When we had to give her shots for footrot, it was a huge brawl, wrestling her to the ground. If she spots an opening – a door not closed, a gate partly open, she charges through it.

When we got to the new farm, she led two spectacular breakouts up and down our busy road, leading her sheep a half-mile from the house.  To do this, she led a charge right through a hot five-wire fence. She didn’t blink. She ended up in a farmer’s pasture, knocked him down and then ran over Red again as we tried to catch her.  The old farmer slugged her and picked her up.

Then she led another breakout  few days later through the new and not yet secure fence. I stood in front of the gate with Red and she charged at both of us, sending us both sprawling on our butts. She watches the fences and feeders and is always protecting her flock. When Red and I bring hay to her pasture, she watches until Red is out of the gate and then comes up to the feeder, ignoring even Frieda barking on the other side of the fence. If we touch the gate, she’s off.

Maria put coats on the sheep to protect their fleece during the winter so the yarn would be clean and Zelda got the coat off in a few hours. Maria tried again, then gave up. Of course, Maria loves her. She is now giving Zelda carrot bits.  The legend of Zelda grows.