Don't Take Sheep Wild Boar Hunting

The sheep have eaten all the grass in their fenced-in pasture. So they’re supplemented with hay and grain in the morning and then again just before it gets dark. But because they yell at me whenever they see me, I feel guilty so I try to take them out a half an hour to an hour each afternoon to graze on green grass.

Since I want to train the dogs better to work with the sheep, I have lately been taking out one dog at a time with me and the sheep. When the dogs are together they’re too jealous if I give attention to the other one, and they just end up wrestling and ignoring their lessons.

Yesterday was Attila’s turn to go out with me. If you remember back to November of last year, Attila drowned a sheep by chasing the flock onto a cement walkway that juts out over the mill pond and one fell off into the pond. So yesterday I was filled with great horror as I stood next to the mill pond, Attila by my side, watching the sheep peacefully graze at the edge of the woods, when all of a sudden a baying pack of boar hunting dogs made it known that they were fast approaching.

Because we were stuck in a narrow lane with the woods on one side, and the pond on the other, I couldn’t risk having Attila turn the sheep around and running them towards our barn. We were on the wrong side of the flock to gracefully attempt that maneuver.

I called Blanche, hoping that she would start walking towards us and lead the flock, but she had heard the dogs baying and wasn’t about to come in the direction of the dogs.

I was starting to panic – imagining that the hunting dogs would lose interest in their prey and decide to chase the sheep – and Attila would get all excited – and we’d end up with eleven drowned sheep. Sure enough, one hunting dog made its way down the hill towards us, but then inexplicably turned around and rejoined his companions.

I knew I needed to get the sheep away from the pond. So I had to risk having Attila chase them up the path, and towards our little commune of Latour, hoping that we would be able to outrun the rest of the dogs, or better yet, that the dogs would turn and run uphill going deeper into the woods.

We set off running in the direction of Latour. When we had passed all the water hurdles, and had exited the woods we ended up in a little clearing. I looked up, and was startled by the sight of three hunters standing not too far away, who were expecting to see boar being flushed out of the woods; and were probably very annoyed to see a flock of sheep, an Australian Shepherd, and a crazy American woman running out instead.

The sheep and I were very lucky yesterday. We escaped a mass drowning in the pond and we avoided being shot to death by hunters.

I think I’ll spray paint the sheep a bright orange color to help them survive hunting season.