One time, I asked my shearer how many sheep he had to shear before he felt he was a skilled sheep shearer. Bent over one of my ewes, clippers buzzing, ewe totally relaxed in his hold, he lifted his head and said, "a thousand". I decided at that moment that I would not learn to shear. I figured that in my lifetime, I would not shear one thousand sheep, and besides, I enjoyed having the shearer come once a year, and I would never shear.
I could not imagine what might ever prompt me to shear a sheep myself. My shearer walked with his back slightly bent, and I could see the toll it took on him. I never asked how many animals he sheared in a year, but I knew the number must be way over a thousand. No, I was sure, I never wanted to shear sheep.
That's the way they would have it. They would want us to shear them, to spin their fiber into yarn, and to knit it into something we can wear. Wrapped in their warmth, we can remember, and think about how we never wanted to shear a sheep.