Making a choice can be both gratifying and intimidating.  We like to choose for ourselves, and yet we also know that we risk either being wrong or at a minimum feeling unappreciated in the choice.  Hopefully we make our choices anyway, undaunted by the risks, and in the end are content with what we have chosen.

You probably know that we have wild sheep on McNutt’s Island, my new home.  Aside from their wildness,  I have also learned that they are rather docile, some might say dumb.

Recently I looked out our kitchen window to find our neighborhood flock grazing  on the lawn.  They are great at mowing and fertilizing.   On this particular day I noticed that one of the younger sheep had somehow managed to get his head stuck inside the ring portion of the remains of a  weather-beaten lobster trap.  The bulk of the trap was gone, but the ring remained, along with a goodly portion of netting, which by now had begun to entangle the poor sheep’s front legs.  Each time she tried to walk, the netting pulled on the ring which in turn tugged down the poor sheep’s neck.  It was a comical, if not sad sight.  Because the sheep was still young, the ring would eventually begin to choke her as she grew in size. 
I considered my choices.  I could ignore the situation and let nature take its course, which would probably lead to the sheep’s eventual demise.  I could try to contact the shepherd who manages the sheep on bi-annual visits to the island, but he lives islands away.  I could take things into my own hands.

I made my choice.  I would try to physically remove the ring from the poor sheep’s neck and disentangle the netting from her legs and hooves.  For a moment, I considered implications of my choice.  The upside: I would save this poor sheep’s life; the sheep might become my friend;  the sheep’s family might be impressed and decide to hang out more often around our humble abode.  The downside: I have never tried to run down a sheep before and might end up hurting myself or at least feeling as dumb as, uhh,  a sheep; I would terrorize the entire flock as I blasted out the door and across the yard.  An unnoticed ram might take issue with my strategy and butt me into the surrounding Spruces. 

The upside won out.  I charged out the door at a moment when the young sheep  looked the other way.  That gained me five steps.  But sheep can be pretty fast, especially young ones.  It turned out I was faster.  Yet she was more agile.  We zigged and zagged, stopped and started.  Fortunately, the netting further entangled her feet.  I ultimately lunged, grabbing her neck and pulling her down.  I braced for a tussle, but as I’ve said, sheep are docile.  She lay there and allowed me carefully to disentangle her feet from the netting and then to remove the metal ring from around her neck.  Then I stepped back hoping for some sign of gratitude.

This is where in making any choice it is important for us to focus on the choice itself and our ownership of it, to be content with our choices without expecting anything in return.  Naturally what I anticipated did not come.  I watched the liberated sheep  bolt into the woods, no doubt terrified by  what had just transpired.

It’s ok.  I am content with my choice.  Now, when I look out at the flock doing its thing in the yard, I can’t even recognize which sheep I helped.  They all look the same.  And apparently lambie does not recognize me.  It is no matter.  I am content. Not only did I perhaps save the lamb’s life, but now I have a story to tell.

Choose because you want to choose.  That is enough.