COLUMN
Woody’s worries
Who let the goats out? Ruth Wood and her family get to grips with livestock fencing
I
t is a truth universally acknowledged that a goat in possession of grass must be in want of the grass on the other
side of the fence. During my childhood in
Yorkshire, I came across many a sheep pottering down the road on the wrong side of a dry-stone wall. But it wasn’t until we bought a holiday home in central Brittany that I discovered the barrier- breaching superiority of goats. Sheep are accidental
opportunists. Goats are hard- boiled Houdinis. No gap in the hedge is too small, no welded wire mesh too tall. I’m sure these determined ungulates would gatecrash Glastonbury Festival if left unchecked. When we bought our
Morbihan cottage in 2016, the very fi rst neighbour who came to say hello was a goat called Cannelle. She snuck through the fence and strolled up to our house cool as a cucumber. I was doing the washing-up when
a hairy black and ginger face appeared at the open window. Next thing, she had climbed onto the windowsill and would have clambered over the sink into the kitchen if I hadn’t fended her off with a dustpan. Another time, to keep the
goats in check, we helped our neighbour Céline hammer posts along the edge of her paddock and tie in a sturdy new wire fence, which I secured tightly to the wall of her hangar. At fi rst, all was well. Then in summer, a self-seeded apricot tree in the corner of our garden had a growth spurt and Céline’s goats began yanking at the
overhanging branches. Egged on by pygmy goats Pompon and Pixelle, ringleader Noisette, a big brown goat, wrenched and heaved and jumped and trampled until the fence was a fl attened mess. The trio charged into the garden and got stuck in good and proper while the little sheep Moka and Réglisse stayed put in the paddock and kept their heads down. Céline’s answer to all this
mischief is layered fortifi cations – both a wire ‘grillage’ and an electric tape. I’ve no doubt the goats are clever enough to scale even this – I’ve seen them climb onto the roof of the old sheep shelter, from which it’s a gentle leap to freedom – but they’re also clever enough to know it ain’t worth it. So far, my husband Jon,
daughter Mabel and I have had limited experience with fencing, but in early spring last year we made our fi rst foray into hazel hurdling. We’ve often admired the
medieval-style herb garden in our nearest town Josselin where the raised beds are enclosed by low hazel fences. So, having cut back some
“I’ve seen goats climb onto the roof of the old sheep shelter, from which it’s a gentle leap to freedom – but they’re also clever enough to know it ain’t worth it”
Inspiration: the herb garden in Josselin
hazel trees that were touching overhead electricity cables, we decided to experiment with the bendy branches. Jon started by chiselling
out six post holes along a fl at piece of timber about 3ft long. This was our base to keep everything in place while we built the fence panel. We took the thickest of the
branches and tapped them into the holes to create the posts – or ‘sails’ if you want to use hurdle speak. Then we took it in turns
to weave the thinner, more pliable, hazel rods in and out of the posts while the others held the panel upright. It was deeply satisfying. Even though I’d never made a hazel hurdle before, the activity stirred childhood memories of grass- plaiting and basket-weaving, of digging and den-building, of mudpie-making and maypole dancing, of treasure hunting and trail-setting in the woods. Some rods were thicker at
one end and nudged the posts out of alignment, so that you had to choose the next rod wisely to pull the posts back into an orderly row. Some rods slalomed eff ortlessly through the posts and bedded down neatly while others resisted and threatened to snap, so that you had to cajole and force them into position. It felt like we were both bending nature to our will and working with it, taking heed of every bend, knot and bump. Forty hazel rods later, we had
Above: The hazel hurdle under construction and in its fi nished glory; our goat visitor off ers us a hand with the washing-up 106 FRENCH PROPERTY NEWS: March/April 2024
a hurdle as handsome as any in Josselin’s herb garden. OK, so it’s only 3ft long and took us over two hours to make. But once we get stuck into this year’s crop of hazel there will be no stopping us. There will probably be no stopping the goats either. But we’ll see. ■
© RUTH WOOD
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