By Kent Douglass

“Biig, baad, Maa, Maa, Maarvin,” taunted Billy the lamb, who bleated and laughed as he hopped in circles around the larger bighorn sheep. Marvin’s eyes were clamped tightly shut and he pretended not to notice the youngster. Little Billy tip-hoofed behind Marvin and butted him as hard as he could.

“Aaarrgh,” screamed Marvin falling forward onto his humongous horns, his hind legs flailing in the air.

“What ya scared of Maa, Maa, Maarvin? You’re a full-grown raa, raa, ram,” laughed Billy. “You shouldn’t be scared of anything.”

Marvin cracked his eyelids, but only a slit. Although he knew there was only one Billy, to Marvin it looked as if two lambs were rolling on the ground in fits of laughter. The spinning mountain made Marvin nauseous, and he locked his eyes closed again as he resituated himself on all four legs.

Life can be rough on any animal living in the Utah desert, but it may have been hardest on Marvin the bighorn sheep. Marvin was a very handsome ram. His magnificently curved horns were the largest on the mountain. He had naturally broad shoulders, and his long white woolen coat was striking. You’d think he’d be the heartthrob of the ewes in the flock, but it wasn’t so. In fact, Marvin was something of a pariah, which if you didn’t know, is an outcast. Whenever Marvin was around, the other bighorns whispered among themselves and gawked at him. Occasionally he’d hear one ask, “Why does that oaf always have his eyes closed? He can’t really be one of us.”

As you probably realize already, all of this made Marvin rather self conscious. Marvin didn’t know what the trouble was. All he knew was that every time he opened his eyes, objects around him seemed to spin. He saw double, and became so dizzy his legs trembled and he could hardly stand—just as feel after you spin quickly several times in circles.

Marvin had to squeeze his eyes closed all of the time so he would not feel dizzy and fall. Still, hiking on steep mountain trails with closed eyes is a dangerous operation for anyone, even a bighorn sheep. There were many times in Marvin’s life when he nearly plunged over precipices.

Grass might not sound very tasty to you, but bighorn sheep love it. In fact, they love it just as much as you love your Thanksgiving dinner. However, since Marvin rarely opened his eyes, he had a terrible time finding fresh grass. He had to sniff it out. It’s no fun spending your entire life sniffing out your dinner. If you think it is, maybe you should try it at your own dinner table sometime. But be careful, your mom won’t like it if you stick your nose in the gravy.

Sometimes, search as he might, Marvin just couldn’t find any dinner, and he’d have to go to bed hungry. Marvin didn’t like that one bit more than you do.

“Maarvin is a valley dweller,” Billy continued to harass the ram. Billy hopped this way and that, and bounded in circles around Marvin.

“You have no reason to insult me, I’m no valley dweller,” Marvin whispered.

“Whaa, whaa, whaat’s that?” Billy teased.

“The valley dwellers are the sheep living in the meadow at the foot of the mountain. They don’t hike up here with the bighorns.”

“How do you know you’re not a vaa, vaa vaalley dweller?” chuckled young Billy. “Haa, haa, haave you ever seen one?”

“Of course not,” said Marvin. “The bighorns don’t visit the sheep in the valley. We live on the mountain.”

“Well, I’ve seen them,” continued the pesky lamb.

“I doubt it.”
“Well, I haa, haa, have.”

“No you haven’t,” said Marvin, who thought Billy was being a little braggart, just like some people you probably know.

“I have too seen them ‘cause I keep my eyes open. I don’t shut them all day like some rams I know, you vaa, vaa, valley dweller.”

Marvin felt like butting the kid to Timbuktu, but Marvin wasn’t a wicked ram. Just like you, he could control himself when he wanted to. Although he gave Billy no reply, he hated being called a valley dweller. It was quite possibly the worst insult one bighorn could give another. Marvin lowered his head, and felt his face turning hot with shame.

“Maarvin’s a valley dweller, Maarvin’s a valley dweller,” Billy said in a mocking voice. Round and round he hopped, jeering for several minutes.

Then something snapped in Marvin. He began to wheeze, his heart began to hammer, and his throat began to rumble. Just as Billy opened his mouth to say something else, Marvin raised his head and hollered, “ENOUGH!” His shout echoed across the mountain, startling the other bighorns nearby. All eyes were on Marvin. Marvin rarely spoke loudly enough even to be heard, so you can be quite certain that little Billy nearly fell to his backside when he heard Marvin bellow. Billy bleated nervously, and took a few steps backward.

Marvin’s eyes opened wide in rage, but unfortunately, his encompassing anger did not cure his bout with dizziness. Instead, it quickly overwhelmed him. He lowered his head, clamped his eyes shut and waited for the spell to pass. When it appeared that there would be no further outbursts by Marvin, the other bighorn sheep resumed their grazing. Little Billy was still a little discomfited by Marvin’s sudden personality change, so he said nothing for a few minutes. When it appeared that the ram was not going to pop off again, Billy piped up, “Maarvin?”

No answer.

“Maarvin?

“What?” Marvin asked peevishly.

“What happened to you?”

“Leave me alone!” Marvin ordered.

“No way,” said Billy. “I’m not going to leave you alone. It was coo, coo, cool. That was the first time I’ve ever heard you sound like a bighorn. Don’t start acting like a valley dweller again.”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“Because,” stammered Billy, “you, you, you’re my best friend.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the ram. “All you ever do is to pester me.”

Billy, who was still cowering, did not reply.

“Well?” said Marvin, “I’m waiting.”

Billy said very respectfully, “You’re the only one who doesn’t chase me away.”

A smile appeared on Marvin’s lips. He couldn’t recall anyone ever calling him a friend before, let alone a best friend. “Well, if I’m your best friend, why did you call me a valley dweller?”

“Because valley dwellers are afraid to climb the mountain.”

Marvin pondered a moment before stating, “What do the valley sheep look like?”

“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself?”

Marvin made a low noise, almost a snarl.

“Well, why don’t you?” Billy asked again, more bravely this time.

After a brief pause Marvin stated, “I get dizzy when I open my eyes.”

“What?”

“I see double and I get dizzy,” Marvin said sharply.

“Double! You mean you see two of me?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“I never knew that. That explains many things. I’m sorry I picked on you so much. I didn’t realize. Maybe you should tell the others.”

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” said Marvin, “ and I don’t intend to. It’s embarrassing. Besides,I don’t want everyone to feel sorry for me, I just want to fit in. Now, thanks to you, my new pal, I know just what to do.”

“Wha, wha, what will you do?”

“I want to be able to say that I have seen the valley dwellers. If I can look at them without getting dizzy, maybe I can fit in better with the bighorns.”

“Do you think you can look without falling over?” asked Billy.

“Maybe if I take just a short peek,” Marvin suggested. He cracked his eyelids open, but the world immediately began spinning. He slapped his eyes closed quicker than a hornet wing flap.

“Maybe you could open just one eye,” Billy suggested.

“That’s the dumbest thing…” Marvin started to say. “Well,” he reconsidered, “maybe I could give it a try.” He took several deep breaths for courage and slowly opened just one eye. What he saw amazed him. Marvin began screaming and dancing around, “I can see everything, and the world isn’t spinning,” screamed Marvin. “Why didn’t I ever think of doing this before?” His other eye popped wide open triumphantly, but since both eyes were now open, his double vision and dizziness returned like a sledgehammer to the skull. Marvin rocked on his feet, and Billy had to butt him to keep him from stumbling over a ledge.

“Keep one eye closed,” Billy reminded him.

“Yeah.” Marvin closed both eyes tightly for a few minutes until his balance returned. Then, partially opening his right eye, he peered all around. The mountain was glorious. He had never really seen it before. “Look, this must be a flower, and that big thing must be a tree.”

“Actually, this is a tumbleweed, and that is a fencepost,” Billy corrected.

Marvin turned to look at the lamb, “So you’re Billy,” Marvin said in a slightly ominous tone. “How would you like to see how it feels to be butted by large horns?”

“Baa, baa, baad Maarvin,” said Billy, backing away.

Marvin laughed, “I would never do that to my very first friend.”

Billy chuckled nervously.

“Just look at how beautiful everything is,” Marvin gasped. Then he closed his right eye and opened his left. He grinned from horn to horn. “The world is just as beautiful through my left eye as it is through my right.”

Marvin romped happily, staring at everything around him. Marvin studied some interesting things on the ground. “What are those?” he asked.

“Bugs.”

“And these?”

“Leaves.”

“And that?”

“A lizard.”

Marvin continued asking Billy about everything he saw. At last, Marvin lowered his head and gazed upon the valley below. There he saw the most beautiful thing of all. “What is that big place?”

“The meadow,” sighed Billy.

“And what about those white things in the meadow?”

“Valley sheep,” said Billy, becoming quite bored with Marvin’s steady string of questions. “They are the valley dwellers.”

“I did it!” cried Marvin. “I saw the valley dwellers. Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go meet them.” Marvin had never been so excited in his life. “Come on!”

Billy answered sheepishly, “I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“My mother won’t let me cross the wash by myself.”

“You won’t be crossing it by yourself, you’ll be with me.”

“Oh, then I guess it’s okay,” piped up the youngster, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Marvin plodded slowly and nervously. This was, after all, his first trek down the mountain. He kept only one eye open. Although anticipation made him giddy, he stepped cautiously. He was afraid that the dizziness would return, but he became more confident with each step. Soon he was prancing proudly at his newly-discovered ability, although Billy still hopped circles around him.

Marvin admired the valley sheep, hoping that he would find many new friends in the flock. “My eye must be playing tricks on me,” Marvin chuckled.

“What do you mean?” asked Billy.

“Because I thought I saw one of those boulders move.”

“Raa, raa, Rocks don’t move,” Billy sneered.

Marvin closed his right eye and opened the left. This time he studied the boulder more carefully, and saw a second one next to the first. “Well, I’ll be,” exclaimed Marvin.

“Now what’s the matter?” Billy asked.

“Both of those boulders moved.”

“I told you that rocks don’t …” began Billy, but then he looked down the hill. Billy squealed, “Hey, those aren’t boulders, those are coyotes.”

Sure enough, what Marvin had thought were boulders turned out to be two sneaky coyotes. “Wait, look at that,” said Billy.

“What?” asked Marvin.

“It’s a laa, laa, lamb. The coyotes are sneaking up on her and she doesn’t see them. She doesn’t know she is in daa, daa, danger,” cried Billy.

Aghast at what he was taking place, Marvin’s other eyelid popped open. As it did, the world twirled violently around him. It was too much for the bighorn and he swooned to the ground and squeezed both eyes shut tightly for several minutes until the wooziness passed. When he was able to open one eye again, he saw that the coyotes had crept closer to the young lamb. Then he saw Billy propelling himself head over heals down the hill toward the beasts.

“Wait Billy!” Marvin shouted, but Billy didn’t slow. Marvin scurried down the mountain as fast as his legs could carry him, all the while worrying that he may be too late.

Marvin heard the flock bleating nervously. “Good,” Marvin yelled. “The valley sheep must know that the coyotes are there. The rams will save the lambs.” But the valley rams, who were supposed to protect the other sheep, had fled to the far side of the meadow. “You cowards,” shouted Marvin.

Marvin pumped his legs for all he was worth, but he was still several hundred yards from the meadow. He knew he would never make it in time to save the two lambs. The valley lamb romped closer and closer to the coyotes, and Billy was nearly upon them too.

Just as the snarling fiends were about to spring, Billy bounded over them, and began hopping in circles around them. Taken by surprise, the coyotes paused momentarily to assess the threat before they sprang after Billy. Billy hopped this way and that, and allowed neither coyote to get its yellowed fangs on him.

“Must move faster,” panted Marvin, all the while knowing that the battle would be finished long before he arrived. “My only friend,” sobbed Marvin. Poor little Billy—coyote fodder.” Just then, a white streak flashed across the meadow toward the lambs. A lone female sheep, one of the ewes, charged the coyotes and bludgeoned one of them with her head.

Marvin was spellbound by the surrealistic events taking place below, yet frustrated by the distance between himself and the brawl he could not prevent. The ewe was the only valley sheep to take up the fight against the ravenous coyotes. She did not have long beautiful horns like Marvin’s with which to fight. Her only weapon was courage. She positioned herself between the coyotes and the lambs and fought off attack after attack, but soon her strength ebbed. She was no match for two hungry coyotes. Even with Billy’s help she wouldn’t last much longer. If only Marvin could make it in time.

Just as the ewe seemed ready to topple, Marvin’s hooves hit the meadow at a gallop. Running headlong toward the coyotes, he butted one of them eighty-two feet seven inches through the air. It was a record head butt. As you can imagine, that brutish coyote ran howling from the meadow.

Even so, the second coyote refused to back down. Marvin glared first with his left eye, then with his right. The beast snarled baring long cavity-filled fangs as it advanced toward the ewe, which stood her ground looking just as fierce as her attackers did. Marvin’s heart was smitten. He did not want anything to happen to the brave ewe or the lambs, so he lowered his head and charged again. He knocked the second wicked beast ninety-three feet eleven inches.

The cowardly coyote ran yelping toward the mountain in a desperate attempt to escape Marvin’s dreadful horns. Marvin stayed at the coyote’s heels as they stampeded headlong up the mountain. Higher and higher they rose, through the clouds and beyond. Just as Marvin was about to overtake the fleeing beast, it leapt over a peak and tumbled helter-skelter down the far side. “And don’t ever come back!’ shouted Marvin at the battered coyote, who glanced back with blood-shot terror in her eyes.

When the coyote disappeared from view, Marvin realized that he was standing at the summit of the mountain. He had never dared climb so high before, and for the first time in his life he was looking down from a mountaintop without shaking in his hooves.

A great cheer broke out behind Marvin. When he turned, there stood the valley ewes and lambs banging their hooves together and cheering. They had followed Marvin up the mountain. Even more surprisingly, the bighorn sheep gathered to applaud too. Loudest of all was little Billy, who led his new lamb friend up the mountain. Billy stomped his hooves and whistled for all he was worth.

As the bighorns and valley sheep continued to hail Marvin’s bravery, Marvin’s eyes met those of the valley ewe. “Thank you,” said the ewe. “You saved our lives.”

Marvin’s eyes dropped to the ground. “You’re welcome, but I couldn’t have done it without you and Billy. Marvin raised his head and again peered into the ewe’s gorgeous eyes.

“What are you staring at?” she asked.

“You have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen,” Marvin mumbled, causing the ewe to smile. Marvin looked at the lamb accompanying Billy. “Is this your daughter?”

“No, this is my niece Mandy.”

“I’m pleased to meet you Mandy? My name is Marvin.”

“And my name is Mildred,” said the ewe. “You are the bravest ram I have ever met.” That caused Marvin to blush, which is no easy task for a bighorn.

The bighorns introduced themselves to the valley dwellers, and the valley dwellers introduced themselves to the bighorns. The only ones missing were the valley rams who had apparently slunk away in embarrassment over their cowardice.

Marvin, Mildred, Billy and Mandy decided that they made a good team. From them on they faced all dangers side by side with their eyes wide open. At least Mildred, Mandy and Billy did. Marvin faced danger with one eye wide open. Mildred knitted Marvin a woolen eye patch, which he always wore from that day on so he wouldn’t see double.

If you ever head to the mountains of Utah and you see a valley ewe standing shoulder to shoulder with a bighorn sheep wearing an eye patch, just call out the name of Maarvin, and maybe he will say hello to you. Look closely and you’ll see Billy and Mandy too. They’ll be hopping in circles around the legendary Marvin and Mildred. No one else would ever dare.

3 Comments »

1. I want to say – thank you for this!

   Comment by lilikindsli — October 5, 2009 @ 3:43 am

2. Very enjoyable and entertaining.

   Comment by mackiedoodle — February 21, 2010 @ 2:00 am

3. Enjoyed it a lot.

   Comment by csd — February 24, 2010 @ 9:48 pm

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL

Leave a comment

Name (required)

Mail (will not be published) (required)

Website

Authenticate this comment using OpenID.