Up here in the north, by April we’re all pressing our noses against the windows, desperate to get outside. Then May arrives and everyone goes from sedentary to crazed—gardening, landscaping, mowing, biking, walking. We’re frenzied.
The sheep are just as excited about spring because it means moist, tasty grass. No more dry, boring hay. Our sheep ate down all the grass in the barn pens, but it was still too early to let them out. We wanted to give the grass a little more time to get established before unleashing the chomping flock.
All winter the sheep paid no attention to me as I, done with chores, would let myself out the gate. But now there was fresh grass just on the other side of the gate, and they wanted it. Every time I tried to leave I had a crowd, pushing at me to let them out. They could see the grass. They could smell it.
How does one resist such a face? The pressure was intense. We held firm for a few days, but finally couldn’t take the constant muttering and evil looks, so we let them into the pasture.
Haven’t heard a word from them since. Everyone loves spring around here!