Monday, 26 September 2016
Lunching on a beach, a raven caught my eye. It was watching over an apparently dead sheep, but the sheep, wedged upside down in the rocks, moved a leg so I went to have a look. It was alive but very weak and with its wool saturated was too heavy to move. Using some driftwood wedges I slowly managed to turn it. However, it only staggered a couple of metres dragging its hind quarters then sunk down again. I diagnosed a broken back and was sad to leave it to die, but happy for the ravens who were no doubt already planning a new family with the prospect of easy food. Next day it had vanished, so must have got feeling back and been able to move off.