Although all sheepguana are descended from domesticated sheep, there are numerous populations living in the wild. While some of these feral populations have remained similar or even identical to the captive flocks they descended from, such as the Guire sheepguana we discussed previously, others have changed considerably and exhibit traits typical for today’s sheep’s undomesticated ancestors.
In a few rare cases flocks of these feral breeds have been captured and re-domesticated, but by and large their archaic traits render them unprofitable for professional husbandry. They do, however, frequently show fascinating adaptations to their often extreme habitats and are thus included in this section for the sake of completeness and curiosity.
Perhaps the most peculiar of these wild breeds is the arboreal Holland sheepguana. Named for the naturalist who first described it, the Holland lives in the lush rainforests beyond the southern desert. Ground level grazing is poor in these forests, since the dense foliage of the multi-levelled canopy allows little light to reach the ground and a thick layer of leaf litter does its part smothering most low vegetation that grazers typically feed on. Between the scarce food and the constant threat of the chaoswolves that patrol the forest in hungry and sceptical packs, the Holland sheepguana have largely abandoned the ground and found new pastures in the forest canopy.
They are much smaller than other breeds, with adults rarely exceeding a weight of 20kg and a shoulder height of 40cm. Their claws have adapted to firmly grasp branches and their long tails provide excellent balance. Together with their small size, this makes them well suited to life in the upper storeys of the rainforest canopy, where they graze upon tender young leaves and the occasional fruit.
Male and female Holland sheepguana differ greatly both in size and in general appearance. The eweguana is the larger of the two and has two long, thin horns that are tightly coiled to form a conical shape reminiscent of the shells of some marine snails. The ramguana, unable to perform the normal displays of physical prowess seen in the species, such as charging and clashing their horns, have instead become smaller and more visually striking. Their horns are straight and short next to the swept-back crest of spines that stretches all the way to their foreheads, and their dewlaps, when fully protracted, are as large as the animals themselves and covered in complex patterns of bright colours.
Beyond their size and arboreal habitat, the most unusual thing about the Holland sheepguana is its coat. In the absence of regular shearing and with the mild climate of their subtropical home, they have gone back to the manner of wild sheep, possessing a relatively thin fleece which is shed every spring, covered by a coarser outer coat of kemps. The truly remarkable thing about their coat, however, is that it harbours a tiny ecosystem in which at least two species live together, mutually supporting each other as well as their sheepguana host.
First and most obviously, there is a species of moss that has colonized the Holland’s fleece, giving it the characteristic green hue that makes it so difficult to spot in the trees. Both parties benefit from this arrangement: By its colour and texture, the moss grants the sheepguana excellent camouflage to hide from predators and in exchange, it is given a safe place to grow that is guaranteed plenty of sunshine, a significant boon in the fierce battle for light that is waged in the forest.
The third member of this strange little community is an ant. Just like other species of the family herd aphids or farm fungi, this particular ant cares for and is in turn nourished by the moss living in the Holland’s fleece. Every herd of sheepguana carries in the wool of its members a single colony of ants. The storage and egg chambers are built from larval silk and the sheepguana’s wool in the hollow spaces formed by the eweguana’s horns with the queen usually living on the matriarch. The workers are spread out across the herd, tending to the moss by day and clambering between sheepguana to move food, eggs and larvae when the sheepguana huddle together for the night.
The moss produces highly nutritious food bodies which are similar to the Beltian bodies found on other plants and constitute the ants’ primary food source. The ants in their turn protect the moss from herbivorous insects and competing algae and lichen and care for it. They fertilize the moss and harvest the seed bodies, preserving the spores to carry to the lambs and to recultivate the growth on the adults after the previous year’s growth has been shed with the wool.
When the sheepguana climb down to the ground to defecate, the ants will briefly swarm the area to look for mineral-rich soil to nourish their crops.
Thus the sheepguana offer a stable home with ideal growing conditions, as well as protection from larger predators, and in exchange the ants keep them free of parasites and dirt and maintain their camouflaging moss.
There is also a species of stick insect that has been found on Holland sheepguana, masquerading as one of the spines running along their back. They seem to be at least tolerated by the ants, but their relationship to the other three species is as yet unclear.
During the day, a herd of Holland sheepguana will spread across the crowns of two to three neighbouring trees to forage, each animal making sure to keep several other herd members in sight. At night, the herd gathers at a tree trunk or a large forking branch to sleep huddled together for warmth and safety. The male displays usually take place at dawn or dusk, when the ramguana will pose on the highest, most exposed branches available to present their magnificent crests and dewlaps, lighting themselves with rhythmic spouts of flame. These displays mostly occur during mating season to impress the eweguana, but also seem to play a role in communicating with neighbouring herds. Young and inexperienced ramguana have been observed accidentally setting their own perch aflame during displays, forcing a hasty retreat.
For a non-nestbuilding animal that lives in the treetops, laying eggs is not what one would call a survival trait, so the lambguana hatch inside their mother’s body to be born live. They then spend most of their first few weeks clinging to her wool until they have become stronger and their first coat of moss has grown in, at which point they will start venturing out onto the branches on their own.
The Holland sheepguana is unsuited to being kept as livestock by civilized birds, as the small, lean animals produce little in the way of milk or meat and what wool they produce is of low quality. The primitive Kakapo tribes that live in the rainforest worship them as holy animals and collect the shed wool. In spring, every morning the lower branches of trees in which a herd has slept are draped with the scraps of wool that have been shed by the sheepguana and tossed down by their fastidious ant companions along with their other rubbish. The raw wool is tangled and shaded a dirty brown from the dead moss intertwined in it. After a long and arduous process of separation and cleaning, the tribesbirds turn it into felt for their tents, clothing and other uses. The remaining mass of moss, lanolin and a few dead ants is used by the druids, who ferment it into a hallucinogenic brew which they claim grants them holy visions from the spirits of the forest.
Inspired By this series of tweets:
Thanks to @DocHollandD , @chaoswolf1982 , @SarahWithTea and @NeolithicSheep .
Sheepguana facts 