The Sheep Who Thought He Was Famous(And to be fair… he kind of was.)

9th May 2025

There’s a certain quiet majesty to the Yorkshire Dales: the rolling hills, the soft bleating of sheep in the distance, and the way time slows down — usually around the moment you realise you’re lost and mildly regretting the second helping of Wensleydale cheese.

I’d set out from Thisledo Holiday Cottage on a gentle ramble. Nothing too ambitious. Just a circular walk, a flask of tea, and the vague idea that I might “connect with nature” or at least spot a curlew. What I wasn’t expecting was to cross paths with… him.

He was standing on a drystone wall like he owned it — which, to be fair, he probably did in sheep terms. Broad shoulders, sturdy stance, eyes that said, “I’ve seen some things, mate.”

“Alright there?” I said, because apparently I talk to sheep now.

He blinked slowly and turned his head — dramatically, I might add — to present his best side. And that’s when it happened.

A group of walkers appeared from the other direction, and what did they do? Whip out their phones.

“Oh look! It’s Eric!” one of them exclaimed.

Eric.

The sheep had a name.

Another walker, positively giddy, added: “He’s all over Instagram! He’s got his own hashtag: #EpicEric.”

Before I could process this ovine celebrity moment, the group was positioning themselves for selfies. Eric posed like a pro — chin slightly lifted, hooves hidden, that kind of mysterious “you can’t touch me, I’m feral but fabulous” energy.

One woman even said, “I follow his fan page. Did you see the reel of him headbutting a Land Rover? Iconic.”

At this point, I began to wonder if I’d wandered into some sort of rural reality show. “The Real Sheep of the Yorkshire Dales,” perhaps?

Eventually, the fans moved on, and Eric gave me a look. Not just a look. A look that said, “They’ll be back. They always come back.”

I nodded respectfully and continued on my way, humbled by the presence of a creature who understood his own brand better than most people I know.

Back at Thisledo Holiday Cottage, I Googled him.

Reader… he is on Instagram.

Turns out Eric was once in a BBC documentary about farming, and ever since, he’s been something of a local legend. He has merch. Someone knitted him in miniature and sells keyrings. I don’t know how to feel about that.

So if you’re ever wandering the Dales and come across a sheep who’s working the camera and looks mildly annoyed you didn’t recognise him — it might just be Eric.

Take a selfie.

Tag him.

And remember — in the Dales, even the sheep have star quality.