The Wolf Who Wore a Disguise

At the edge of a green and rolling valley, there lived a shepherd named Thomas who looked after a flock of soft, woolly sheep. He knew each one by name, and every evening he counted them carefully before they settled down for the night.

Not far away, in the shadow of the woods, a Wolf had been watching that flock for a very long time. He thought the sheep looked rather cosy and well-fed, and he was very hungry indeed.

But every time he tried to sneak closer, Thomas and his two sheepdogs would spot him and chase him away.

"I must think of a cleverer plan," said the Wolf.

One afternoon, he came across an old sheepskin that someone had left near the edge of the field. He picked it up and looked at it thoughtfully. Then he draped it carefully over his back, smoothed it down, tucked his dark grey ears inside, and shuffled slowly toward the flock.

The sheep didn't seem to notice. They just went on munching grass and bumping into each other in the comfortable, muddly way that sheep do. The Wolf smiled to himself. This was working perfectly.

He shuffled closer.

And closer.

"Well, hello there," said a calm voice just behind him.

The Wolf froze.

It was Thomas the shepherd, holding his crook and looking down at the Wolf with a very steady gaze.

"I counted twenty-one sheep this morning," said Thomas, "and I counted them again just now when I heard you come through the gate. Twenty-one sheep — and one wolf in a sheepskin."

The Wolf opened his mouth. Then he closed it again.

Thomas walked him gently to the gate and opened it wide. "Off you go," he said, without any anger in his voice at all.

The Wolf padded away into the trees, feeling rather silly with the sheepskin still draped over his back.

Thomas went back to his flock and began his count again.

"One, two, three, four…" he said, patting each woolly head as he went. "The thing about looking after others," he told his sheepdog quietly, "is that you have to pay proper attention. You have to really know who belongs and who doesn't."

The sheepdogs wagged their tails.

That night, all twenty-one sheep slept safely in the fold, warm and snug and very well counted.