A few days ago, as the sheep were approaching the end of the pasture at the Woodbury place, I was worried that there wouldn’t be enough grass to see them through until moving day.  Since then, I’ve panicked repeatedly about both running out of grass and running out of time to finish the grazing, sometimes in the same day.  It looks like it’s going to work out.

I moved the flock to this spot in the morning, and this evening I set them to trimming grass right against the house and barn.  There’s a little strip of pasture heading toward the trailer-loading spot that they’ll eat in the morning, and I’ll try not to feel overly pleased about getting it all to work.  The catch — always a catch — is that the tall grass near the house makes it hard to get the electronet to stay in place, and even when it stays, grass against the fence steals electrons.  I’m half expecting to find a mass escape in the morning after 721 pushes his way through the half-assed fence and the rest of the flock decides to follow.  A Greek shepherd should well know that hubris breeds tragedy…