When it comes to the lottery of life, it seems to me that the sanglier (french for wild boar) got a raw deal. He is not cute, he is a pest, and he is good to eat. Consequently, the sanglier is hunted (and consumed) with enthusiasm in this part of rural France.
My top field of grass got a visit from a group of them not so long ago, and they upended the turf over a wide area in their hunt for worms and other delicacies to eat. The problem is that I can no longer mow the grass there since the uneven-ness of the ground now means that the mower blades hit the hummocks and the blades bend. I have trashed two mower blades with the mowers on the highest setting, trying to cut the grass.
So I have to rotovate the ground, flatten it, add some topsoil where needed, and replant with grass seed. It will be a long job since they covered a wide area. I would feel better about it if I didn't know that another troupe could arrive tonight and do the same thing again.
Perhaps I should invite some hunters....
3 comments:
I saw three near my house last year - walking in the snow and probably looking for food among the chalets. They were so much bigger than I expected.
Sure beats the moles on my lawn
Mind boggles.
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