But there definitely was something sheepish about the final document that held the words eventually agreed upon to comprise the independence declaration. And thereby hangs the tale of paper’s being upstaged.
Sometime before that July, a casual sheep was gamboling across green hillsides, vales, dales and dells. It was just a run-of-the -flock sheep. It gathered no particular attention from others. It held no high jump record. Its wool was the standard issue. Its ‘baaaa’ was blah. It might not even have had a good self-image.
