When do we want it?
Never mind that the arrival of spring is way delayed this year. We had snow on the ground on Wednesday morning, for crying out loud.
The girls don't care. They are most insistent that it is spring, dammit, and there must be grass, and there shall be grass, and MOVE US TO THE FRESH GRASS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!
So starting at 6 am every morning, if they feel that their present location is less than ideal in the grass department, they start up with a chorus of demands that doesn't quit until the portable fence is moved. Even their grain feeding, which normally makes them very happy, doesn't cut it. If any person dares to show their face outdoors, the complaints intensify tenfold.
The fence mover(s) must map out a battle plan in advance, due to the tendency of the ewes to rush to wherever you are moving fence, desperate to be the first lips that touch new ground. Here they were right on my heels, onto the new bit of pasture as soon as I exposed it.
That was part of my plan, though, to distract them while I moved a much larger portion of fence without them trying to rush me, and potentially rush right under the fence. It worked for a bit.
But then, true to form they were right there, waiting and pushing and being general pains in the butt.
This requires the fence mover to yell and shout and flap his/her arms and ask for Dusty's help to get the girls to back the heck up and wait one gosh-darned minute instead of getting hopelessly entangled in the not-yet-placed fence.
The lighter portion at the back is where they were grazing yesterday.
Finally: fence in position, happily munching QUIET sheep. Hopefully it will be enough to hold them so we don't have to move the fence again tomorrow morning, but the grass isn't quite as lush it should be yet. Despite the ewes' most fervent belief that it should be.