Anger management for Sally the Shepherdess

My name is Sally and I am angry. You would be angry if you were me.

Every time I introduce myself as a shepherd people laugh at me. They think I am joking, and that I must be 'messing' with them. Once they realise it's not a joke, they go on about how easy my job is, sitting in a field with sheep all day. Yeh, sitting in a field in the pouring rain all day while your dumbass sheep ruin you're life is really easy. Cleaning shit off my floor when the break into my house - HOW do they break into my house?! I don't know!!! The point is, they shit in it! And then last week I missed my hair appointment because they wouldn't move out of my driveway...I have roots and split ends, and people think my job is easy?! I look like a large version of Britney Spears! You know, when she stopped getting her hair done, but before she shaved her head.

And then there's that dog. Toby. Chases his tail instead of the sheep. I hate dogs. I like cats. I had a cat called Lady Tabitha Finkleston, but I think Toby ate her. Or she ran away. Either way, I clearly can't have a frickin' cat and am stuck with this dumb dog. Ugh. I get dumber just watching him. I thought he'd at least do tricks and bring me my slippers, but he ate them. I'm still waiting for him to pass my engagement ring...that dog has one slow digestive system.

I don't even know if I'll clean that ring before I give it back to salmonella Simon. He got me that stupid dog in the first place. I wish dogs could just be for Christmas, and not a fucking life sentence. Much like marriage to that two timing wazzock would've been. Can't believe he cheated on me with my own sheep. I hate my life. It is a comedy of errors.