Invasion

Invasion


King Lambert projected his thoughts, “Are you certain?  Let me hear it again.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” General Baba thought.  Once again he replayed the recording.

“Moo, mo, moOO, moooo, moooa…”

“That’s enough, ENOUGH,” Lambert sent.  The guttural wailings of his sworn enemy was enough in itself to prove their barbaric nature.  Lambert thought, “Are you certain your translation is correct?”

“Positive,” General Baba returned.  “Our best linguists have verified the translation.  Furthermore our sentries have reported numerous enemy sightings within our borders.  There is no doubt.  The invasion has begun!”

Lambert thought, “Then quickly gather the flock.  We must take the vote.  I shall present the recommendation for our response to this invasion myself.”

The entire flock was gathered within the hour.

King Lambert stepped forward.  He expanded his telepathic range to encompass the entire crowd.  “My friends, for weeks rumors and speculation concerning a possible attack by our enemy is no longer either rumor or speculation.  Our intelligence officers have intercepted enemy communications confirming their plans to stage a full-fledged attack upon our lands.  Enemy troops have already been spotted within our borders.  It is confirmed, my friends, the invasion has begun!”

Lambert waited for this information to fully set in.  The flock was silent, anticipating his next thoughts.

Lambert projected, “As a democratic society, with so much at stake, no single individual may make the decision for all.  It is our tradition.  My friends, there are only two choices:  Shall we defend our fields and valleys, or will we allow our enemy to drive us from our lands?”

After a short pause he thought, “In keeping with this same ages-old tradition, an audible vote must be taken.”

After preparing himself for what must be communicated, Lambert thought, “The question before you is: Shall we fight and drive this herd from our lands?  All in favor?”

A resounding, “Baa, baa, baa,” echoed from the flock.

“All opposed?” Lambert thought.

Not a single bleet.

Solidarity.  Lambert’s heart filled with pride.  Lambert smiled.  Well, not exactly smiled.  Being king was serious work.  He had never smiled before so the best he could do was a kind of lop-sided grin.

His flock, of course being sheep, tried to follow their leader and smile also.  It seemed that none of them had ever smiled before either.  The funny facial expressions they were making, at any other time would have elicited numerous baas and bleets, but due to the seriousness of the situation, they simply fell silent, intently listening for their king’s next thoughts.

Lambert thought, “The baas have it.  Beginning at sunrise tomorrow we engage our enemy, we go to war!”

The sheep had always been the most peaceful of creatures.  Aggression was not their way, but as the enemy forces gathered they were determined to defend their land using the only weapon at their disposal.  Tomorrow they would begin their counter attack, eating all the grass of their fields.  Nibble each blade to the root.  Only barren earth may remain.  In this way the marauding herd would have no choice but to surrender and leave their lands.

When Lambert was young, a very foolish king had formed an alliance with the goats after a similar invasion had occurred.  With their combined forces, the cows were easily defeated in three days.  However, no sooner than the last of the Holstein herd had retreated, the goats started feeding on the thistles and briars still remaining while stomping the tiny shoots of grass back into the soil, leaving nothing for the sheep to eat.  The invaders were vanquished, but likewise the flock was forced to flee their lands.  Only the goats remained.  The goats still hold this land today.

This was new land and Lambert was old and wise.  He had seen many wars.  There would be no goat alliance.  The goats could not be trusted.  No, the sheep would triumph, and they would do it alone.

These invaders were not the more reasonable Holsteins.  They were of the Black Angus Tribe, the most feared and reviled of all the bovine clans.  Shrewd, tenacious, cunning, they were well known for their utter disregard of boundaries.  The battle would be vicious. 

‘War is a terrible thing,’ he thought privately.  ‘Many will founder.  More will suffer through the following famine until the grasses return.  Even then the flock will have to endure rationing for weeks.  Some will die, but the flock will survive.’

Lambert again extended his thoughts to encompass the entire flock, “LONG LIVE THE SHEEP.”

The flock responded in unison, “Baahaahaah.”