Woolly Jumper

I came home from the city to find a dead sheep on my doorstep. It wasn't the first time. The locals in my village can't afford their pity for wounded animals on the roadside so they often leave them on the doorstep of my veterinary surgery, ring the bell and run away.

I clear up the pieces - and their consciences - by treating the animals and claiming the costs under insurance. Sometimes they're too badly injured and don’t make it. The butcher repeatedly asks me to give him the carcasses, but I refuse. It's a decision he's not pleased with.

He's not the only one who's unhappy; last week the insurance company refused to pay for a small pony I treated two months ago which someone - and heaven knows how - left on my drive. They called me in to meet them at their head office in the city. It was a long meeting where we talked in circles and I left it exhausted. Another animal on my doorstep when I arrived home after a long drive meant an unwelcome long night ahead.

"This is for you!" The boy's voice sounded like Terrence, the single child of the butcher, and a spoiled brat. The sheep was probably another one of his practical jokes. The first time it was a chicken from his father's shop. His second stunt...

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Paul Sterlini
Jul 21 2020

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Very clever!

Janette Ostle
Aug 28 2020

Great mix of humor and horror. I almost wish I could see the conversation with these two at the end!

Elizabeth Hocker
Aug 27 2020

A funny blend of red riding hood and James Herriot, loved it!

Tony Spencer
Jul 27 2020

I really enjoyed this!

Rod Webb
Jul 23 2020