My maternal grandfather was like that. Old Scotsman. Bit rough round the edges but small children & all animals adored him. My OD screamed @ all males, including her father, for the first 3 years of her life but Poppy could pick her up & walk her round the home paddock talking quietly too her in a brogue that was as broad the day he died as when he 1st arrived here & she'd just gaze up @ him adoringly.There's a local guy here around my age. He used to be a shepherd in these mountains. He does still take flocks out but it's occasional. He drinks and plays bass guitar in a band.
He's as badly turned out as I am but he can walk through my door right passed the chickens without causing panic, they just scurry out of his way. He talks to the chickens when he comes by. He walks in the mountains in his spare time and stops here to get water. He's helped out with the sheep a donkeys in the past. Interesting man.
