Free Fiona the Sheep!

A row has broken out over plans to rehome Britain’s loneliest sheep. The ewe, now named Fiona, was rescued after being stranded for more than two years at the foot of cliffs in the Scottish Highlands. But an animal rights group says plans to rehome her to Dalscone Farm near Dumfries would make her a “spectacle.” Fiona is now in hiding after activists turned up at Dalscone Farm— BBC News, 5th November 2023.

In a small front room somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, Archie leaned forward in his armchair and cleared his throat. As Chair of the Animal Rights Brigade Highland Branch, it was his job to call this meeting to order. “Okay, guys. First off, a big thanks to Sarah for hosting tonight’s meeting and providing the coffee and biscuits.”

(Sarah, sitting on the settee, flashed a big ‘you’re welcome’ smile at the group.)

“Right then, do we have any apologies?”

Branch Secretary Walter Gibson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was much too tall for the red leather pouffe on which he was perched. His knees were almost up around his ears. “Amir can’t make it tonight. He’s protesting against the tree clearance for the new bypass.”

Archie frowned at the chocolate digestive in his left hand. “Good for Amir,” he said. “But let’s remember we’re a small group, guys. Let’s not spread ourselves too thin, yeah? I was outside Dalscone Farm on my own on Wednesday. The BBC’s Tina Tuttle described me as ‘the loneliest sheep’s loneliest protestor.’ Doesn’t do our credibility much good, does it?”

“We need to flock together for these things, right Archie?” said the bearded young man next to Sarah on the settee.

Archie nodded, oblivious to the pun. “Spot on, Jonty. Okay, so how are the ‘Free Fiona’ placards coming along Wally?”

“I don’t think we should be calling her Fiona.” All eyes turned towards the mousey-haired young woman sitting in the chair opposite Archie. Tilly didn’t usually say much at these meetings. She didn’t usually say much outside the meetings either.

Archie nodded encouragingly. “Interesting. Could you say more about that, Tilly?”

Tilly pushed her elbows into the arms of the chair to lever herself into a more upright position. “This sheep isn’t a pet, so it shouldn’t be treated like one. By giving it a name, the media is turning this into a Disney story. They’re robbing a noble farm animal of its true dignity!”

“But those baa-stards in the media aren’t pulling the wool over your eyes, are they Tilly?” said Jonty with a smirk.

“But what do we call it then?” asked Sarah, flashing Jonty a look of irritation “We can’t keep talking about ‘the sheep rescued from the bottom of the cliffs’, can we?”

Archie brushed biscuit crumbs from his lap. “Tilly makes a good point, though, Sarah. Any thoughts on an alternative name, Wally? You’re our wordsmith, after all.”

“Or pen man, in this case, surely!” Jonty nodded.

Wally peered out from between his knees. “Just off the top of my head, the Dalscone Farm Sheep, maybe?”

Archie nodded approvingly. “Gets my vote. Everyone else happy with that?” There were murmurs of assent all around.

Tilly hitched herself up on her elbows again. “I also think we should challenge the wider narrative surrounding this story.”

Archie looked at her. Two comments in one meeting. He wondered if she was taking performance-enhancing drugs. “In what way, Tilly?” he asked.

“Well, media outlets are suggesting that the sheep is ‘in hiding.’ But sheep don’t go into hiding. They have hidden her, but the subtext of their message is that she’s under threat and needs to get away. From us! They’ve made us the big bad wolf of this story!”

“We’re being made scapegoats, are we?” Jonty looked around the group with a grin on his face. Once again, he got no reaction. He sat back, slightly deflated. “Wow. Tough crowd.”

“Good observation, Tilly,” said Archie, scratching his chin. “Thoughts, anyone?”

Sarah fiddled with her left earring. “We could push a counter narrative in our press communications. We could start using the word ‘kidnapped,’ for example.”

“Oi!” said Jonty through a mouthful of biscuit. “You’re stealing my jokes now!”

Sarah looked annoyed. “I am not stealing your jokes, Jonty! I’m simply trying to make a useful contribution to this discussion, which is more than can be said for you with your stupid puns!”

Jonty started to reply, but Archie shushed him with a wave of his hand. “Kidnapped sounds good, Sarah. Wally, could you take that idea away and draft a press release for us, please?”

“You’re the man with the pen after all,” Jonty sniggered.

“You’ve used that one already,” Sarah snapped. “And it wasn’t funny the first time.”

“Now, about Saturday,” Archie continued. They’re planning a photo op with Fi – the Dalscone Farm sheep. We should be there to protest. We’ll need to open the petty cash tin, as there’s a £2 entrance charge.”

“They’re fleecing us!” Jonty announced.

“Shut up, Jonty!” said Sarah, elbowing him in the ribs.

“I’m happy to drive if anyone needs a lift,” Archie continued. “Wally, can I count you in?”

Wally shook his head. “Sorry, Archie, I’m supporting Amir at the bypass protest. Rumour is the bailiffs are coming in at the weekend.”

Archie gave him a hard stare but said nothing.

“Sarah?”

Sarah made a face. “Saturday’s not good for me, I’m afraid. My daughter’s football team has a cup match and I’m driving the minibus. Sorry!”

Archie breathed deeply. “Tilly?”

Tilly shrunk deeper into her chair under Archie’s gaze. “The environmentalists asked me weeks ago to picket the site of the proposed incinerator this Saturday, so...”

Archie turned to his last hope. “What about you, Jonty? Are you coming or am I going to be left looking…”

“Sheepish?” Jonty suggested.

“I was going to say looking like the only person who cares about this issue. I don’t want to give Tina Tuttle another opportunity to put us down!”

“No,” said Jonty, unable to contain his mirth. “Because that’s what she did when you met herbivore!” He burst out laughing.

“You are such a dick, Jonty!” said Sarah, lifting the plates from the table and storming off to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on!” Jonty replied, wiping the tears from his eyes. “That was a good one, you have to admit!”

Archie lifted his coat and moved towards the door. Jonty called after him. “I’m free on Saturday, Archie. Can I get a lift with you?”

Archie turned. “No, Jonty, you can’t. I don’t like your attitude, and I don’t think I could listen to any more of your stupid jokes!”

“Oh, don’t be like that, mate!” said Jonty. “I was only having a laugh! I promise I won't say a word on Saturday!”

“Too late to bleat about it now, Jonty!” said Sarah coming back into the room.

“Sarah’s right,” said Archie, zipping up his coat. “I’m kicking you out of the group, Jonty. And I’m spelling that E-W-E!”