New Zealand's got sheep. Lots of sheep. Millions, in fact. We eat them, we wear them, keep them as pets, sleep with their skins, and we wait patiently in the car while herds of them meander across our major highways. We're living off the sheep's back, so the saying goes.

New Zealand's first sheep arrived in 1773, accompanied by Captain Cook. Both sheep died soon after and it wasn't until the 1830s that sheep were successfully breeding here. By 1982, New Zealand was home to over 70 million bleating, baaing ovine residents.

By this time, a couple of canny blokes in Rotorua had already cottoned on to the value of our omnipresent national icon. But they weren't interested in the wool, or the meat - the source of millions of dollars every year - they were focused on the sheep's unfettered, undeniable star quality.

In 1970, despite the scoffs from those upon high, pastoral heavyweights George Harford and Godfrey Bowen established what would become one of New Zealand's premier tourist attractions: the Agrodome sheep show.

In 2007 the Agrodome is nearing its 40th anniversary and I'm preparing for my first sheep show. Alongside a gaggle of multi-national tourists I'm greeted at the door by a third-generation Bowen - one of many of the founders' relatives who now operate the Agrodome.

Instantly, my nostrils are pervaded by the unmistakeable smell of raw, unprocessed wool: sweet, rich, earthy and dank, it reaches every corner of the room from the wide, carpeted floors, across the rows of high-backed wooden bench seats, onto the gleaming stage and up into the A-framed timber ceiling.

Running on to the stage is our host, the archetypal Kiwi bloke - there's no other way of describing him. Short dark hair and ruddy round cheeks top his squat, square frame. A tight black singlet swathes his ample belly above worn green shearing trousers and scuffed, dirty boots. A single red dog whistle hangs from a string round his neck, nestling amongst curls of greying chest hair that peek out from beneath his singlet. A sprawling green tattoo on his bulky shoulder completes the ensemble: as Kiwi as hokey-pokey ice cream.

With his fast-talking, non-stop, fact-packed banter he engages the crowd. Behind him sits a tiered, stone-clad pyramid, labelled with names of assorted sheep breeds. At our host's invitation, an enormous, dirty, spiral-horned sheep toddles onto the stage. "Here he is folks, the number one sheep breed in the world, the merino!" The crowd claps and chatters appreciatively, watching the star trot to the top of the pyramid where it rests, regally, munching on a bowl of food. In steady succession, 18 other sheep clatter onto the podium, each with a fact-filled, celebrity-status introduction.

"All the way from Spain"; "Perfect for jerseys"; "This one makes the best lamb chops - but don't tell him that!" Our bloke fires off fact after quirky fact while the sheep jostle restlessly on their stands, tussling with each other's food bowls.

From a side door, a timid, jittery sheep darts onto the stage, erratically trying to zigzag around our host who's about to shear him. The sheep is easily wrestled into a submissive, legs-in-the-air position and as we're talked through the process, the thick, curly wool is peeled smoothly off the sheep's back. The dense, oily smell of wool wafts through the room. Skittering on the wooden floor, the sheep charges back to its door. Its wool is thrown in wispy clumps to the crowd who caress, sniff, and stretch it apart, unfamiliar with the fibre in its raw form. Picking up a coarse tuft I roll it about in my hands, making them shiny and pungent with lanolin.

Moments later my hands are wrapped around a warm, greasy cow's teat. Hauled up on stage as a volunteer I am, for the first time in my life, and in front of an audience of hundreds, milking a jersey cow. She is standing, unbothered, battering her long eyelashes and slowly chewing on a bowl of grass. I reach for her shiny speckled teat... "Wait!! No!!" cries the Kiwi bloke. I jump back in shock - what have I done? "Ha, ha. Got ya!" he says, as the crowd laughs. "Go ahead". It's warm, slippery and pliable. I squeeze, moving my hand downwards, aiming for the bucket below. Out comes a fine spray of milk - right up the inside of my arm. I try again, this time squirting the milk right into the bucket. The rhythmic 'sprrrink' of the milk hitting the bucket is interrupted occasionally as I misjudge and fire it across the stage. For my efforts I'm rewarded a tissue (for my oily, milky hand) and a 'Certificate of Udderance'.

The interactivity of the show is a hit with the audience - as are the cute lambs with their wiggly tails, and the brash white ducks that are hilariously herded by the equally popular sheep dogs. After steering the ducks off stage, the dogs - a motley, barking, sharp-eyed trio - show off their skills to the high-pitched 'peeps' of the host's whistle. Barking all the while, an enormous huntaway runs back and forth, stops, backs away, runs again, then launches himself upon the sheep's backs, running up the pyramid as if climbing a set of rickety, woolly stairs. The other dogs follow suit and for a moment the crowd is entranced by the high-speed whistling, barking, chaos of the show. At their master's instruction, each dog stops upon a designated sheep's back, standing proudly to the applause of the audience.

Riding on the sheep's back: the dogs have got the hang of it, and back in the 1970s, Godfrey Bowen and George Harford were confident that a one-of-a-kind, true blue New Zealand farm attraction could too. They went against the herd - faced ridicule and laughter - but all the while maintained their conviction that the humble Kiwi sheep could captivate a world audience. A lot has changed since the '70s: The Agrodome's burnt down, been rebuilt and even opened a branch in Japan. But some things have stayed the same: the world is still enthralled by Bowen's and Harford's creation. And New Zealand's still got sheep. Lots of sheep. Millions, in fact...

Amelia  visited The Agrodome courtesy of Destination Rotorua Tourism Marketing.

Amelia is Content Editor for the New Zealand travel and tourism website www.fourcorners.co.nz.