Joseph Mullins shook his head. Standing in front of the open barn door, facing out toward the greening fields and lightning sky, Joseph realized he had to take matters in his own hands. Matty, his trusty sheep dog, would be giving birth soon. The day's heat would cool off with the pending rain, and Matty would give birth when the rain stops. There was enough time to get back to the house and call the vet.
Joseph had to walk across the sheep-cropped field and collect his flock. At least he would be half-way to the house, but his leg was still not up to snuff. The ground, hilly, potty and uneven, made progress for Joseph slow. The accident and near trampling of the neighbor's little boy that wandered on to the field flashed before his eyes. He did not want the sheep to be afraid of him, but he had to save that boy. How had that boy got there anyway? He appeared out of nowhere.
No matter. He wished again he had one of those new fangled mobile phones his wife was always going on about. He'd call in his buddy Jeff, with the flatbed truck they'd collect his dozen sheep. Then he'd call the vet for Matty might have some complications. She was an old girl, but not old enough not to get pregnant. A break in the clouds with a stream of sunshine came just northwest of Joseph's gaze. Joseph turned a bit and admired the glow on the land. He hoped the storm would come later than sooner. He pulled out a cane from behind the barn door and started his long walk home.
