Remember the little chicken door we added to the run to keep the sheep from crashing their party? It measured 12"x8".
It's now been modified to look like this. Measuring 6"x8".
Why you ask? Ooooh let me tell ya.
Because I was wrong about the sheep. They're not the riff-raff hanging outside a hip and trendy night club. They're not the paparazzi trying to get a glimpse of the rich and famous. Nope. They're nothing but a band of common criminals staking out the joint! Yes indeed, they actually managed to squeeze those woolly bodies of theirs in through that 12"x8" space and were trashing the place. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it myself.
You just can NOT leave young folks unsupervised now days. Rose and Blanche are just babies, but Dorothy is a yearling and really should have known better by now. She should have been setting a good example. Instead she's leading them to a life of crime. She's also not stopped whining and crying since she got here. We assume she is suffering from severe separation anxiety. Regardless, it was obvious we needed to bring in a baby sitter.
She is four years old. Calm, cool and collected and instantly brought order to chaos yesterday afternoon when we brought her home. I love her already. But I won't trust her any farther than I could spit her either. You never know, she might be the ring leader of the crime syndicate.