Biddie is the last of the imperial rescue Romneys who came to the farm five or six years ago and had been neglected for so long their wool had felted. Biddie is the Queen, and normally, she has little use for me. She pays no attention to herding dogs either, she even ignored the might Red. She is above being herded.

Yesterday, it was -4 and when I came outside Biddie was at the gate with a pleading look in her eye, which is unusual for her.

My guess was that she was asking me for grain, so I went into the barn and brought some out to her. She ate hers greedily and the other sheep came running, but it was too late for them. Maria gave them grain later. I have to admit, I couldn’t resist that face. I went out to check on her this morning – it’s a balmy 34 degrees – and she paid no attention to me. Queen Biddie was okay.