It's Over'

It's Over

Life, as they knew it, ended for Ray, and his sheepdog Jess, on August
12th, 2001. Their last job was to bring the ewes and lambs off the
hill. For slaughter.
The farm where they lived was isolated, and for a long while, life had
gone on as usual. Jess was a particularly talented sheepdog, and
between her and Ray, they'd worked hard to keep the sheep from straying
too far over the hills. It was the only thing they could do to try to
keep them isolated from their neighbour's flocks, but eventually, their
efforts proved futile.
One day, the Men from the Ministry arrived. Foot and mouth disease had
spread to the area, and the sheep had to go. To Jess, it started out as
just another day. Regularly, throughout the year, the ewes and lambs
were fetched down from the hill, and pushed through the race, which was
made up of a number of gates fixed together to form a narrow alley,
behind the farmhouse. Usually, it was used for worming or shearing, but
this time was different. Nothing came out alive.
All day Jess did as she was told, keeping the sheep moving through the
race in a regular trickle. When the shooting started, the sheep made a
break for freedom, but with Jess at work, they stood no chance. She
stood her ground and blindly obeyed her master, whatever the
reason.
When it was all over, an unnatural silence settled over the farm. The
only sounds to be heard were Ray's muffled sobs. Jess lay quietly by
his side, her head resting on his knee, until his sobs subsided.
"Well Jess," he said, when he was finally able to speak, "that's it.
It's all over." With that he rose from the ground and made his way into
the house, the faithful dog close to his heels.
Ray and Jess had been a partnership for three years now. It had always
been a struggle to make ends meet on the isolated hill farm, but they'd
managed. Ray had loved the sheep, and the rough hill land they'd
grazed. His work, and Jess's companionship had been all he'd needed
since his wife had died a year ago.
Now, in less than 24 hours, everything had changed. Of course there
would be the compensation money, but it wouldn't be much, and it
wouldn't come for ages. Money was always in short supply, but with the
restrictions in force due to foot and mouth disease, Ray hadn't been
able to sell any lambs for a while. The early born lambs should have
gone to market a while ago, but they'd had to stay where they were,
competing for the sparse grazing. Money had gone out instead of coming
in, as Ray had had to buy in hay, as supplementary feed for his hungry
sheep. He hadn't begrudged it all the time there was a chance the
disease would pass them by, but it had all been for nothing.
Next morning, the wagons arrived to remove the carcasses. Ray couldn't
bear to watch. He whistled for Jess, jumped into his old truck and took
off for the village. It was opening time, and he needed a drink. He
hadn't been to the pub for weeks, ever since the first case of the
disease had come to the area. He would never have forgiven himself if
he'd carried the infection home to his flock. It was yet another
precaution that had been to no avail. Although his flock had remained
healthy, there had been no way to save them from the compulsory
cull.
When he arrived at his local, he could see he wouldn't be alone. The
car-park was half full of vehicles belonging to people who, no doubt,
had suffered the same fate. It wouldn't be a happy gathering, but
today, he needed the company.
Inside, were several familiar faces, all wearing equally grim
expressions. The conversation was limited to a single subject. Foot and
mouth disease. The first farm in the area to be infected had been the
beginning of the end. Fencing in the hill area was sparse, and a
sheep's understanding of boundaries was limited. Some farmers, like
Ray, had attempted to keep their sheep close to home, but to no avail.
Once the compulsory cull was introduced, the area was finished.
The landlord's expression was as grim as the farmer's. Although he was
taking money from his shell shocked customers today, it wouldn't be
long before they started keeping their hands in their pockets. Common
sense would reassert itself, and what little available cash they had
would be needed to keep body and soul together. The disease had kept
tourists from the area for most of the summer, and takings were
desperately short. He had little doubt that the 'closed' notices would
be going up before the year was out.
When Ray and Jess eventually returned home, the wagons had left, and
all that was left of a lifetime's work were a few bloodstains, and some
clumps of wool, which would have come out by the handful as the
carcasses were loaded. Ray came close to tears again, but crying was no
kind of answer.
If he was honest with himself, Ray would have admitted that he'd
neglected the place since his wife had died. It was never much of a
house, but somehow, she'd always managed to keep it homely and
comfortable. Now, there were slates missing from the roof, with the
inevitable dampness which went with it, and two of the upstairs windows
were boarded up, where he hadn't bothered to replace the glass which
had got broken during a wild storm the previous winter. When it was
just himself he was looking after, these things hadn't seemed
important. All his energy and money had gone into building up his
flock, and now, even that was gone.
Briefly, he considered the option of selling up, and starting a new
life elsewhere, but it wasn't really on. Even if the thought appealed
to him, the property wasn't very saleable. On top of the poor condition
of the house, it was at the end of a long stretch of unmade road which
was all but impassable during bad weather, and there was plenty of that
in this part of the country. Even the big developers who were buying,
and doing up places to sell as holiday homes, would baulk at the amount
of work needed to fit even the most basic requirements of the average
townie.
Ray went into the house, and where Ray went, Jess followed. Ray's wife
hadn't liked Jess coming inside, so she'd had a comfortable bed out in
the shed, but since he'd been on his own, Ray had started taking her
in. She was company for him, and over the past twelve months, they'd
developed a great depth of understanding for each other's wishes. Fewer
and fewer commands had been needed as time went on, until a single word
had been sufficient to send Jess searching the hills for their flock of
sheep.
As the evening wore on, Ray dozed intermittently, jerking awake every
now and then to take a swig from the bottle of whisky he'd purchased
from the pub. It was money he could have used more wisely, but he
didn't care. For now, he needed to forget, and alcohol seemed to be the
answer.
The next time he came awake, it was daylight. His head was pounding
and his mouth felt and tasted appalling. Jess had her head on his
knees, and was whining.
"Oh God," muttered Ray as he struggled to his feet to let her out,
"what have I done?" One look at the empty whisky bottle answered the
question, it also brought all his despair back to him. Drinking to
forget didn't seem to have worked. He headed to the kitchen to put on
the kettle. While he was there, he drank a mug full of water,
swallowing a handful of aspirins with it. The effect was immediate.
Leaning over the sink, just in time, he emptied the contents of his
stomach. He thought it would never stop. At last, when he gathered
enough strength, he let Jess back in and made it back to the sofa,
where he fell into a deep sleep, bordering on coma. At some point, he
became aware of the weight and warmth of Jess joining him, but it was
hours before he fully regained consciousness.
He had no way of knowing what the time was without switching on the
light, but his head was still pounding. Moving seemed like too much
trouble, but at least his stomach seemed to have settled. As he lay
there, thinking about the future, Jess whimpered in her sleep.
'Poor dog,' thought Ray. 'I never even fed her yesterday, what sort of
life has she got to look forward to now. She'll be as lost as me
without the sheep to work with.'
Eventually, with a huge effort, Ray made it to the kitchen once more.
As he stood at the sink, preparing to take more aspirins, the sunrise
began. As the sky lightened, Ray could see the empty hills, bringing
home to him with full force the prospect of his empty future. Despair
settled like a lead weight.
He knew the answer. There was no way he could go on. There was no
point. Jess and the sheep had kept him going for the last year, since
he'd lost his wife. Now, there was nothing. No amount of compensation
would make up for the loss of his way of life. His decision was made.
He went to the cupboard in the corner, collected his gun, called to
Jess, and left the house.
Jess stood, looking back at him, expectantly.
"Away," said Ray, quietly. Jess took off to search for her sheep. As
she hesitated before jumping the wall, Ray took aim and fired. Death
was instant. Had she lived, she'd have heard a second blast.