By JoEllen Collins
One of the most rewarding public experiences I have had in a while was volunteering to dispense information, be alert for emergencies, and share our local hospitality to the tourists lining the sidewalks to enjoy the Trailing of the Sheep Parade on a chilly but clear Sunday. While I felt colder than I would wish, even in October, I realized the next morning when I awoke to inches of snow that we were lucky to have sunshine for this celebration.
I was fortunate to be part of a unique event that is truly representative of a community that showed its best that day. Although I have voiced similar praise in previous columns, I was full of gratitude that I live where I do. Even amid local tensions due to COVID, a lack of affordable housing, and an insidious resentment of some of the “newbies” moving to our Valley, I experienced again the gentleness of people, the evidence of senses of humor, the pleasure of talking with eager children, and an overall sense of belonging.
A couple of years ago, during the same activity, I encountered one particularly hostile person with a large dog. Big or small, for safety reasons dogs should not be around sheep and their canine herders, especially with crowds and small children. It was an unpleasant experience, and I finally resorted to pointing out the owner to law enforcement. This year, I didn’t encounter anyone hostile or upset, even with the expected delay of the traveling sheep, who don’t need to rush to ease the impatience of awaiting humans.
I did promise one of the spectators that I would mention in my column a funny and maybe odd set of occurrences. One was that I was able to joke with some of the crowd. When I said the sheep were heading to California, a cowboy-hatted gentlemen asked me, “You mean they are going to walk all that way?” I couldn’t resist the imp of humor residing in my mind, and answered, “Oh, well, they aren’t going to L.A. Otherwise, they’d be in limousines.” He chuckled along with me at that image.
Another was when several times women noticed my feet clad in a cute pair of black sneakers and some “gold” adornment, very comfortable and a kick to wear. This attention stimulated some lively discussions with women from all over, such as North Carolina, Texas, and several in a Pocatello travel-for-adventure group. All seemed to be enjoying the celebration and were full of friendly praise and pleasant conversation.
I left the event with a smile and intention to volunteer for this every year, even though I live right along the route and can comfortably watch this kind of parade from a chair on my deck. Easy, but not in any case better than mixing with a hospitable and good-natured crowd at an unusual and quite special Idaho event.
I don’t feel sheepish at all admitting how much I appreciated the day and my shoes made for walkin’.