Wired

Feeding the free range sheep this morning I heard an unusual metalic rattle among the bleats and baaas. It was one of last year's ewe lambs sporting the latest look in designer fencewear.


An old 6 foot length of the classic number 8 gauge wire was wrapped around her and dragging along behind. We keep the place as free of wire and other rubbish as possible and have cleared loads but the place has been through fires and floods for more than a hundred years and deep in the forests of bracken there could still be ancient lost temples. Obviously there was a bit of old fence. As SO was in his sleeping time I tried to remove the offensive fencing by standing on it to catch her. She wasn't impressed. Neither were the other sheep.

I tried to catch her bodily but by myself in the middle of our largest paddock with the other sheep all milling round demanding service, breakfast or to see the manager and I should have known it would be hopeless. She seemed to be tangling the wire closer to her as well, trying for the crinoline look.

I had no choice but to wake up SO and he came to all our rescues yet again. One advantage to being tired and fed up is that you don't muck about, you're beyond being careful and you just lunge at the animal you want and secure it in a vice-like grip. SO did this. He also got the wire in a vice-like grip or at least in the wire cutters' grip and little miss was freed relatively easily. There were no cuts, lacerations or other injuries so we let her go pronto to feast with her friends.

She left so fast that we didn't even get her name.

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