Karen was not accepting her situation, she would not go near the front fence to the petting pen, and for most of her first day she ignored people altogether. Oddly, nobody seemed to care that the new addition to the petting zoo wanted nothing to do with being petted. I approached Karen late in the first day and she as before when human, paid attention to what I scrawled in the pen dirt.
"Please I love you," I wrote, as she looked up at me and bleated harshly as if I had disgusted her.
She walked away from me bleating as arguing, I suppose in her anger she considered my saying I loved her meant I might be gay. My reality I still thought of her to being the same kind, loving, female person she was toward me.
Terry let us sleep together, and of that I did not mind. I thought it odd about Terry, his mean attitude he directed toward Karen, she being so unfortunate to of been cursed, demeaned and disgraced.
And so it continued, each day the same as the next with the exception that dear Karen began coming to the petting fence and let children reach as pet her thick woolly coat of curly hairs.
I recall as about the third week that Karen was herself a male sheep, I again approached her and scrawled in the pen sands, "I AM NOT GAY," as then to my amazement, Karen rather than bleating her "Maa...," she reached her left forehoof and scrawled in the sand, "NICE TO KNOW, I LOVE YOU 2."
Karen and I became as closer friends from gaining a mutual understanding, one for the other. As well when the restaurant guests slowed mid-afternoon, and after seven pm in the evenings, we spent valued time conversing, writing, messaging.
One remembered conversing had Karen write, "NERVOUS, GROIN ACHES."
As I wrote to her my reply, "FEELING HORNY."
Karen replied, "YES."
So I replied with a boom of a question, "MASTURBATED YET." To which Karen stood there looking up at me, her sheepish mouth agape, eyes staring, as stood there like she was petrified.
As then she wrote, "NUTS."
As I wrote, "YOU GOT THEM NOW."
As Karen snorted harsh-like for her usual calmer manners, so she replied, "YES, GOT THEM - NOT WANT THEM."
As I wrote, "GOT THEM - NEED TO USE THEM."
As Karen thought for a few minutes before she wrote, "USE HOW - NO HANDS - NO EWES."
She made for a good argument, as from being a donkey my usual manner was to toy with my elongated erection, as having excellent libido, and by bumping the highly sensual, blunt, bloated end to rub my belly fur, the sensation builds until I spew a load. Now considering of that long of an explanation scrawled in the pen sands, we would need a bigger pen!
As I then wrote, "TRY BLEATING A LOT - GET TERRY TO NOTICE."
Karen began her Maa..., Maa..., Maa..., Maa, Maa, Maa, Maa..., and literally drove the restaurant manager, some guests, and Terry as plum crazy from all the bleating.
As such, Terry who acted terse toward Karen most of the time, became near vicious toward her when no human was watching. Karen was diligent, as I was sure her big balls were aching, as she was in rut, and that can hurt if you have no way to drain the sense of lust.
One day at lunch a man, restaurant guest approached the manager and informed him the real reason for all the bleating noise. It seemed the man owned a farm and bred sheep, he was willing to have even an odd Ram, as Karen was an Australian Ryeland breed. So Karen left then the restaurant and petting zoo for three weeks.
When Karen returned she acted different toward me, not so loving, more as if my equal.
The first chance we had I cornered her to a far side of the petting pen, as scrawled, "WELL - HAD FUN."
Karen looked up at me, and if a sheep could smile, well she tried, as wrote, "YES - 172 -X - 3."
Astonished, struck dumb for five minutes,maybe more, as then I replied, scrawling, "5-1-6 TIMES -REALLY."
To which Karen replied with a short bleat and she wrote, "5 1 6 AT LEAST - SOME 4 TIMES."
As for a long while, months, she acted as having pride for being a Ram!
However Terry had some other ideas...