No trespassing

Its one of those annoying things in life that the grass on our side of the hill refuses to grow longer than 2mm a year whereas the grass around the Ghost House grows 10cm day. This lush green pasture has been out of bounds to our sheep partly because of the fencing around it, partly because of the curse associated with the place (don't look back) but mostly that should they ever dare trespass you can guarantee that would be the weekend that Murph would return, discover the wooly backs massive misdemeanour and talk me to death with his fascinating account of how much the grass to sheep pooh ratio was far higher than expected. So I have always resisted the temptation of letting them into the garden, unless we are stealing apples but thats a quick in out raid, unlikely to be discovered.
So each day our sheep walk around the bonsai mountain in search of fresh pasture, pausing to survey the verdant bounty the other side of the wire, before, heads bowed, wandering on and foraging amongst the gorse bushes. Every now and then Murph turns up and rubs salt in their wounds and mows the grass, piling the fragrant moist clippings on an out of reach compost heap. The sheep shaking their heads in despair at such a waste of natures bounty gather in our yard and console each other by mugging the horses.
They now have a saviour.
Geisha, who now joins them on their daily foray as her leg has healed has noted the tempting feast beyond the wire. She being taller and slightly more intelligent than your average Ryeland has solved the puzzle of how to get in and devour the greenery. She has previous at breaking and entering, the tack room and workshop have been subject to raids started by the goat who can open bolted doors. A gate latch was no match for her, the wire security loop caused a minor delay and soon she and 11 sheep were gorging on the green stuff. I'm sure Murphy wont mind, a lot less bovver than a hover.