On a warm day in early summer, Abigail the Sheep could feel the excited energy spreading throughout her flock. The fields had turned bright green and little daisies had popped up as if overnight.
Abigail loved to eat daisies. In fact, much like the other sheep, she couldn’t get enough of them. But only she knew of a clearing in the meadow where countless of these delicious little flowers were blooming.
Abigail looked cautiously and as inconspicuously as possible in all directions. She wanted to make sure that no one would see her sneak away. She didn’t see any other sheep around so she headed off to her favorite spot.
“They seem to be awfully distracted today!” thought Abigail. She grinned to herself. From far away, she could hear the shepherd coming with the tractor. They must be with him. She figured whatever he wanted could wait.
As soon as Abigail saw the many fresh daisies in the clearing, she forgot about everything else. She carefully nipped one fresh bud off after another and ate them with relish.
“If the others found out about this place, it would be trampled and grazed in minutes!” thought Abigail. She renewed her resolve not to share this secret place with anyone.
After she had eaten quite a few daisies and tufts of grass, she began to get sleepy. She figured it couldn’t hurt to take a little rest. She lay down under a shady tree and dozed off.
Suddenly, Abigail woke up to the bleating of the other sheep. She shook herself and ran towards them to see what was the matter.
When she reached her flock, she saw that all the other sheep had very short wool. They looked completely different!
When they spotted Abigail, one called out to her, “Abigail where have you been? No one could find you.”
“Oh no! I missed the shearing!” said Abigail. She knew perfectly well that a sheep’s thick wool had to be trimmed in the summer so that they didn’t suffer in the heat.
All the other sheep looked so fresh. Abigail looked down and saw her thick and somewhat matted winter wool. She imagined having to spend the whole summer under the hot, stuffy mess. It was going to be awful.
“Hey, don’t worry!” said Margaret. A small group from the flock gathered around Abigail to find a solution.
“We could try nipping the wool off with our teeth,” suggested a young sheep in the group.
“Or you could rub really hard against the old tree at the end of the meadow! Maybe the wool would fall off on its own?” said another.
But they knew none of these suggestions would cut Abigail’s wool properly.
Suddenly her older brother, Henry, came running over. She could always count on him.
“Look! The shepherd left his scissors in the front of the pen!” he said. “In a few minutes your wool will be as short as ours!”
Everyone got excited. They tried to grab the big shears with their front hooves.
“Hmm, we better practice on the tall grass first!” said Henry. The shears were hard to control. But soon, he got the hang of it.
It took longer than usual and wasn’t as accurate as the shepherd’s haircut, but Abigail’s wool was finally short like the others. She felt much better.
“You’ve all been so helpful!” she said. “I know the perfect way to thank you.” Abigail the Sheep then led the group to her secret spot to share the juiciest daisies in the meadow.
