Dear Curiosity Journal,

In a flurry of over-caffeinated energy, I determined I would move the sheep gates in order to section off a small paddock in the tree line. I’m earnestly attempting rotational grazing, but keeping up with fencing, and waiting for pastures to grow back without rain have proven challenging. Since confirming the Babydoll ewes are “over conditioned” (a.k.a. chubby, not pregnant), the flock has been off the grain treats, which means moving them poses another challenge. They act like they forgot they were bucket trained and don’t know me anymore. I was feeling pretty proud of myself for slapping this shady little paddock together, but it wasn’t long before the flock humbled me again. Rufus was like, “Let’s make a reel”. Folks, no reels were made. He did capture an 11 minute video of us cursing in the background. My theory is that they didn’t want to go through the gate because the brush was thick and they’re not the type to plunge into jungly territory where predators may lurk. So when Rufus pushed them toward the gate, they went everywhere but in. There was tackling involved, an emotional battle of wills between beasts, close calls with poison ivy, running, juking, more swearing, and throwing our hands up. When Rufus finally caught Cauliflower, she gave a quadruple hoof thrust forward and both of them flew a full 360 in the air. I can’t believe he held onto her. I don’t know that I’ve ever been so angry and burst out laughing at the same time. When we finally got them in, they were content for a few hours and then baahed and hoofed the gate to be moved. I did not heed their baaahs. In the morning, they had stormed the gates and “rotationally grazed” themselves back to their preferred pasture, adjacent to their comfy manger.