Very small lambs go through a period of getting under fences. The drinking tubs are one way, either through the water, in danger of drowning, or, for the cleverer ones, just alongside and under the wire. And since one cannot herd lambs at all, definitely not one on its own, the whole flock has to be moved to where the lamb is. This also goes for single escaped ewes, double figures are more manageable.
Actually, that is wrong. Cats go and come in their own mysterious ways. There are no known ways of controlling cats. Everyone knows that.
|Edward, the Black Prince with Tiger, his ginger cat|
Our longest-lived labrador, Edward, the Black Prince of La Chaise, had us beautifully trained. When we noticed his absence, and if I had time, I got into the faithful Peugeot 504 estate wagon and would drift round the country lanes, preferably the ones in the woods. The diesel engine would be run in its noisiest gear. Sometimes Edward would deign to come out of the woods with a resigned expression on his face. I would open the boot and he would hop in.
When we had not noticed his absence, difficult I grant but we sometimes had other things to do than concentrate on the needs of dogs, then an evening phone call would come. 'Edward is here,' would say our nearest neighbour,' he wants his lift home.' Or, when in luck, that neighbour fancied a drink and Edward would be brought home in style, on the back seat.
The current chief escapologist at La Chaise, is Roger, our new pedigree Clun Forest ram from the Pyrenees. He bitterly resents being fenced in, will batter down fencing and gates, use the styles, to get out of whichever field he is in to join the ewes and lambs. He will, however, being a friendly chap, follow Alex back to wherever if Alex is carrying a pan of maize grains. Typical male, guided by his stomach.
|Roger the Ram, trapped behind a mains voltage electric fence.|