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began opening boxes and pouring them into the trough inside the fence. The sheep watched for a minute before the first of them approached. He stuck his face in the crunchy treat and began snacking. Dr. Jones patted him on the head.
    “You want the harness?” Andy asked.
    “No, this is Wooly. He’s the Judas sheep. He always comes first, and then the others follow. If we snagged him, they’d all be too afraid to come the next time.”
    Wooly grunted his agreement, sucking up the cereal like a vacuum. Soon he was joined by two others, muscling their way in. Dr. Jones grabbed one of them by the scruff of the neck, gathering up wool in her fist. It appeared rough, but the animal didn’t seem to notice and continued its binge.
    When the cereal was gone, Dr. Jones deftly slipped the harness over the sheep’s head, tightening the straps with her free hand. She held the reins in her armpit and opened the last box of cereal, luring her captured animal over to the gate. Several of the other sheep followed, and Wooly snorted his disapproval at being left out.
    “Shoo the others away while I open the gate,” Dr. Jones told Andy.
    Andy, feeling quite the dork, flapped his hands around and made hissing noises. The sheep just stared at him, and out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw the stoic Dr. Jones smirk.
    “Go on sheep! Go! Move it! Go on!”
    The herd slowly backed off, and Dr. Jones opened the gate and led her captive to one of the pens. Once it was safely locked in she went to fetch her clipboard.
    Andy gave the sheep a pat on the head and stared into its alien eyes with their elongated pupils. Bub’s eyes. He shuddered, realizing he didn’t want to see the demon again so soon.
    With a tape measure Dr. Jones checked the sheep’s length and its height at the shoulder. She noted the measurements and then pressed some buttons on a digital display next to the pen. It registered the sheep’s weight. She jotted this down as well.
    “So, do people call you Sunny?”
    “Not if they want me to reply.”
    Ouch,
Andy thought.
How can someone so cute be so cold?
    “I thought all vets were supposed to be cheerful. Something to do with their love of animals.”
    She gave him a blank stare, and then began to examine the sheep’s teeth.
    “What do you go by, then?”
    “Sun. People call me Sun.”
    “Sun. It’s unique.”
    “My mother was Vietnamese. She fell in love with an American soldier, who brought her to this country before Saigon fell. Sunshine was one of the first English words she learned. She didn’t know any better.”
    “Oh, I think she did. It matches your cheerful disposition.”
    Sun was now looking into the sheep’s eyes, holding their lids open. The sheep protested the inspection by twisting away.
    “Wait a second,” Andy said, snapping his fingers. “You’re Vietnamese.”
    “Don’t say it,” Sun warned.
    But Andy, a grin stretched across his face, couldn’t resist. “You’re a Vietnam vet.”
    Sun’s face became even harder, something Andy hadn’t thought possible.
    “Never heard that one before. Open the pen there.”
    Andy lifted the latch on the gate and Sun led the sheep out of the pen and over to the entrance door.
    “I’ve visited Viet Nam twice,” Andy said. “Beautiful place. All of those war movies make it look like hell, but it’s actually very tranquil, don’t you think?”
    “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been there. I’m an American.”
    Andy decided to shut up.
    They led the sheep through the hallway and into the Octopus, where the rabbi and the priest were still arguing.
    “Here comes another one, wretched thing,” Rabbi Shotzen pointed to the sheep with his chin.
    Father Thrist frowned. “I don’t understand why you can’t kill the sheep humanely first.” He crossed his arms, obviously uncomfortable.
    “Bub only takes ‘em live, guys,” Sun answered. “You know that.”
    The Rabbi said, “What about some kind of painkiller? Morphine,