Domesticated sheep–Ovis aries–are a domesticated ruminant species numbering in the billions worldwide.
Sheep have lived with humans for thousands of years and often hold symbolic meanings in various Eurasian cultures.
These grazing herbivores are quite prolific and are an essential farm animal and have their place along with horses, cows, and chickens in the farm-cannon. With an iconic “bah,” a sheep’s song is as recognizable as it is surprisingly loud.
In some countries, such as New Zealand and Australia, the sheep population exceeds that of humans. The primary driver of their domestication in the billions lies in their wool, an absolute cornerstone in textiles. Now you may be asking yourself, “How would wool woo the world?”
The answer is simple: a little bit of genetic modification.
As is the case across many select taxa, sheep were bred over time to exhibit certain traits that allowed maximum output and ease of domestication. Humans hijacked and selectively bred sheep that grew thick wool super fast, a trait that in many parts of the world would be quite maladaptive without a weekly visit to a trained artisan with a pair of shiny shears.
That’s why the infamous black sheep can produce “three bags full” of wool like it’s nothing, similar to Matt Damenson’s talented but oh-so flawed self-insert’s ability to solve math equations in the quintessential New England 1997 movie, “Good Will Hunting.”
Another hack of domestication allows sheep to herd sheep, which is much harder than it sounds. In order to get around the logistical issues of having two feet and a lackluster sprinting speed, humans also selectively bred certain dog breeds to assist them in herding sheep.
A jaunt past Kingstown Road brings you to Peckham Farm, where you can find the University of Rhode Island’s sheep. Some readers of this paper may have been lucky enough to take a class there and study these animals up close with professionals, or have seen them on the Quadrangle for campus events.
The role of the sheep on campus is varied. Some see others in them. A wonderful proxy in a world that rhymes more than you may assume.
For me, sheep are a great reminder of how generalizations of all manners are flawed. Sheep are not just part of a herd; they are individuals, subject to many of the same social constructions of biology that we ourselves adhere to. Like us, they have their own wants and desires that often take a backseat when the environment changes, pressures invite alternatives to dreams.
We, too, are a herd. But that is not a bad thing once you realise the beauty in the individual. That we are both social and independent. It’s scary to be part of something bigger than yourself, but you can take comfort in the fact that you indeed are yourself.
Wake up, sheeple! Take a break, get some air, meet some sheep and understand where you fit in a herd.
