Are you hunter or hunted?
You just never know if you cross one of our pastures unannounced.
Hunting season for deer is in full swing in our area. During the month of November it’s a common occurrence to step outside and hear rifle shots.
Today on my afternoon tour of the pasture perimeter I met two hunters traveling in a white truck along the opposite side of the fence line. We each stopped to chat, the fence line between us and right away I was fielding questions about the sheep and the guardian dogs.
Then the hunter in the passenger seat recounted this brief story.
Last year when hunting he left his truck to follow a wounded deer which had crossed a fence line. Climbing through the fence he continued to hunt for his deer when out of nowhere, this huge white dog rushes him from behind. And... the hunter says with heavy emphasis, “the dog came right up my backside and scared the shit right out of me.”
Inwardly I couldn’t help but proudly chuckle while quickly calculating which guardian dog it might have been.
“They’re pretty friendly though, hey?” he asked.
You just never know.
One Fall day a few years ago, I decided to walk the half mile out to pasture late one evening. I was mid paddock and dark was near but I had not seen sheep yet. I remember hearing a bleat and turning to travel in that direction. I had walked a short distance in the near dark when I felt the hairs on my neck rise. Right behind me, completely unseen and unheard, the guardian dogs rushed and I tasted a bitter moment of fear.
You just never know if you’re hunter or hunted.
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