Demma the Pomeranian and the Attack of the Killer Sheep

I went hiking with Demma, my host's Pomeranian, and she managed to get us in trouble with the sheep.  She liked to chase them down, you see. Oddly enough, with fear in their eyes, the wild sheep obediently ran away from Demma--a tiny black ball of joy-- as she raced towards them.  At some point though, they realized that they, a large group of 7 robust mountain sheep, were running away from a small solitary fluff on legs.  As if on command, they all turned around at once and began chasing Demma in the direction towards me.  This made me nervous.  Seven mountain sheep were headed towards me determined to prove their might.   "Look what you've done Demma!" I shouted.  My sister's ramblings of how to communicate to animals and images from the scene where the small African boy stood tall in front of the wild cat in The Gods Must Be Crazy raced through my head--I stood tall, stomped my foot, and let them know that I was the superior homo sapien though I was terrified inside.I could already see myself running away as fast as possible from the "killer sheep", as Icelanders commonly refer to them.  My act was thankfully sufficient though, and I survived the day to be able to write this entry.

This was another group of sheep. They stared me down from afar and wouldn't let their eyes off of Demma and I. Every time I looked behind me, they hadn't moved an inch. They just kept staring.
































In the end though, Demma and I had an amazing hike with amazing views. :)