We are saying "Farewell to our dear Miss Erma this morning. Sadly the blasted fox killed our lovely girl last evening. No more cute, polite 'Mr. Foxey Loxey' references for him. Her was too bold... too cunning. Jonathan was brush-hogging the field at the barn when he saw Samson take off down over the hill. He followed, but neither he or Samson could get to Erma in time.
We will miss our lone survivior. We will miss the way she ran through mud, as if holding up her antebellum skirt so it would not touch the ground. We will miss the way she bonded with the sheep and they with her. We will miss the way she loved to use the window in the barn door as a mirror.
Most of all we will miss Miss Erma's "buck...WHEAT" greeting.