I have trained my sheep to put themselves away for the night. When I fling open their netting, they stampede for the barn, where they know alfalfa pellets are waiting. These photos were taken a week ago, on a cold, damp afternoon, as the sheep galloped down the south pasture.
Pardon the frost-heaved fence posts. Fixing them is on the list.
The order is predictable. Geranium (arthritic right back leg) and Pixie (whom last year I nursed through a grievous illness that left her with some hind-end muscle paralysis) always bring up the rear.
The flock pours down the hillside, gallops across the driveway, and jumps into the stall.
I walk down after them slowly and close and bolt the door.
Now that I’ve had time to work on their fencing, I’m leaving the flock out on the field overnight. However, it comforts me to think that if anything happens, the sheep should head straight for the barn.