Apart from one thing, the English County of Kent and the Cantons of Helvetia have nothing in common. But that one thing, however, is cute beyond all imagining. It’s a kind of Swiss sheep called the Valais Black Nose and I know this because one of ‘em and me got to be pals. I called her Lulu and our relationship was, of course, platonic. In grad school, I’d run four miles every morning for inane reasons now lost in the mists of time. Canterbury was wonderful for this, all timbered Medieval charm, ancient pubs and impossibly verdant sheep farms. On a rural lane, I’d pass a flock of Valais grazing happily and, every morning, Lulu would trot to the fence to bid me hello. I often stopped to chat with her - to the impatience of my running mate, an Australian chap with a big red beard. Of a day, something happened that was even more magical than my conversations with Lulu.
© 2024 John Oliver
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