The Stalking Sheep

Today I saw a little sheep, waiting by the gate Maybe it had gone astray through some mishap of fate But strangely it did not appear to want to go away Perhaps it was the same sheep that I saw there yesterday If I go out it follows me wherever I might go It stays a way behind me, but always remains in tow I don't know what its motives are or what compels the beast Nor from where it first emerged, from what mad farm released. At the supermarket checkout, by the door I see it wait As the cashier quietly asks me 'Is that your sheep out there, mate?' I deny the sheep is with me, but the sheep gives that a lie When it turns to follow dog-like, as I sheepishly walk by. I don't know what I ought to do, I doubt that the police Will care much for a stalker who has four legs and a fleece But still it is quite sinister; I feel some kind of threat But what it is, I don't know, for it hasn't done it yet!