It is my pleasure to still be walking on this earth and to be in communication with you. My name, as you may know, is Madison. I am a boy sheep, although I often pretend that I am a bison. Farmer Anne loves bisons. Plus I sort of look like one when my wool grows out. I came to live at this blessed farm in March of 2003. I was so tiny, that I could sit in people’s laps. Well, I still could but I’m not sure they would like it all that much. Be that as it may, I may be old, but I still know how to get down, as you young folks say, shake my booty, rock on, and be cool. I hope I’m getting that right.
Mr. Claus, I know you are now working overtime so I will be brief and to the point: I am a very hairy sheep. My breed is Rambouillet and we have some of the softest wool on the planet. But my wool also grows everywhere. I mean, everywhere. Sometimes I need to have my face shaved at the barber’s because I can hardly see. There is a more private matter, however, Santa, and man-to-man, I hope I can confide in you. I often need my belly trimmed. Not the whole belly …. ah, this is so delicate. Well, you see, around my pee pee area I grow a lot of heavy fleece and if it doesn’t get groomed properly and on a regular basis, I get something quite awful called “Pizzle rot”. It’s like diaper rash. I’m sure you understand. It’s embarrassing and uncomfortable. So the wool needs to be trimmed. A quick snip with safe scissors do the trick. These blunt scissors and these blunt-tipped scissors are both tried and true. Perhaps you can ship them in a plain brown box so no one knows what they are? I am a rather dignified sheep and would like to keep this little problem between us.
So glad to have gotten that over and done with. Now then. Mr. Claus, we are in need of some gate wheels. What are gate wheels, you ask? Well now, gates that are mounted on posts swing open and shut. That is what gates are meant to do. But most of the time they either drag a bit on the ground, resulting in a human using rather unfortunately bad language, or they swing too fast, resulting in animals (mostly Jean Claude the llama, he is one fast fellow) escaping out or breaking in. A wheel keeps this all under control. I think it’s called civil engineering. I would have liked to have been a civil engineer had I not been destined to be a sheep.
Finally, Mr. Claus, may I please ask you to send me a sponsor? I allow sponsors to give me full body hugs, and if I really like them, I will snort in their faces. That is a great compliment from a sheep to a person.
I thank you for your putting your attention to my letter today, and I wish you and the Missus a wonderful and restful year.
Star Gazing Farm
16760 Whites Store Road
Boyds, MD 20841