The Black Sheep

Part 1

Hmph. Every day is just like the next.

I sighed to only myself as I chewed somewhat dried out pasture grass within the vicinity of my herd. I was part of them, but I never really felt like that. 

Of course, what else would you expect when you are the youngest born black sheep of the herd?

 You are a constant reminder to all the PW's aka Pure Whites of a mistake within their lineage. You don't look like the rest and because you don't look like the rest, you are treated differently, and subsequently you act differently.

Pfft. "Your huffing is drying up my grass faster than the sun is," said my closest herd mate and best friend, WB254, but who we normally just call WB.

Hmph! I huffed even more emphatically just to make a point.

"What does it matter to you? You complain about everything," I replied.

"Have you considered that maybe I complain about everything because of who I am and the company I keep, BB?" WB replied to me directly using my nickname around here.

"Well, we don't have much to be happy about, that's true, but you have more to be happy about than me," I reflected. "The PW's don't hate you. You choose to be in the back of the herd with me. But me..." I scuffed at the ground in frustration, "this is my place for life whether I like it or not."

WB baaed towards me, "You're such a pessimist. Life is life. Who cares where we lie in it?"

I care, I thought to myself quietly.

Look at those PW's just floating through the best and greenest parts of the pasture. It is as if they truly believe that they are the most majestic of beasts providing the fluffiest and most luxurious tufts of white, cloud-like wool.

And at the forefront of the PW's strutted the leader of them all, PW111, but she was known around here as Daisy. Her wool is the finest and because of that, the farmer spends extra time with her and has even given her a special name to differentiate her from all the rest of us.

Daisy let us know that she was different too. She was not one of those humble rulers. The flaunt in her status was clear. Her throne was the lushest swath of greenery in the entire pasture. Right under a willow tree, surrounded by all her subjects. Even the shepherd's four legged minion with the floppy ears and loud bark was gentler with her.

I didn't see what was so special about her. She was just like all the rest of them. Maybe she was the best, but she was still the same.

Maybe my charcoal dark wool wasn't what the farmer wanted, but it made me different.

WB bleated at me softly, "Trainer is starting to get antsy. I'm going ahead with the others. You should follow."

If only I could roll my eyes as well as I am imagining I am. Ah yes, the four-legged minion returns, I thought to myself.

My head turned back towards Daisy. Look at how delicately she can eat, look at how she isn't rushed. The gentle breeze can flow around her and maybe even just by her presence, the sweetest, tastiest flowers will spring up around her.

My head dropped, examining my white hoofs and pasterns, the only part of me that was unstained. The lowest part of my body started with that beautiful white color and slowly transitioned to smoky gray, a dusty brown, and finally the darkest of blacks.

My sigh of discontentment was enough to attract the attention of Trainer who immediately nipped at my back legs to get me to run towards the rest of the flock. Before lunging forward, I looked back to where Daisy was, but she was already gone. Ahead with the rest of our brothers and sisters.