8 September 2022

Eight in the Bog

One Saturday evening I drove across the fields with the Land Cruiser and Fly. For the pet sheep remaining in Granny's field this was a surprise - if I'm out taking photos in the evening, I usually take the quad. Their shock stopped them from running over as soon as they saw me so I was able to get some nice long distance photos.

Rosie, Millie, Nigel, Olive and Titch.

Esther was there too, but didn't feel like joining the group photo.

Our actual destination was a field called the Bog. It's a tiny, boggy field that we rent, connected to our own farm by a narrow old N.I. Water gate. The Bog had become very overgrown so my plan was to keep my breeding ewes, and eventually the tips, in there for a few months to eat it down.

On this evening the tips had yet to arrive in the Bog, so it was just us girls - Fly, the eight ewes and myself.

Laurel watching Fly. The pets all grow up around dogs but most of them still have that natural instinct to be cautious around them.

Laurel with Blossom and Audrey (and a glimpse of Margot).

Heather with the hoggets; Laurel, Audrey, Margot and Blossom. They're all watching Fly who's snuggled in beside me.

Now Penny's there too.

Blossom.

Audrey, Penny, Margot, Laurel and Blossom (with Flora too, munching away in the background).

Fly moved away from me so the sheep decided to watch her some more.

While Fly was lying on my left side, Tilly was pressed against my right. She doesn't mind dogs if there are scratches to be had.

Heather.

The sheep were cautious of the dog but Fly was cautious too. Like any sheepdog, she's not sure what to make of the situation when the sheep don't run away.

There was plenty of grass to hide behind anyway.

While I was talking to Fly, the ewes had wandered up the hill to stand at the gate.

Margot.

Tilly munching on holly.

The hoggets in a huddle.

What a way to spend a Saturday night.

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