I thought I was going to do quick morning chores today and then head in to Boston to participate in my other life, but I got to Eric and Deb’s place and found Bravo frantically rubbing his face in the dirt.  He and Cleo had confronted a porcupine some time over night and neither were very happy.  Cleo, the gentler soul, let me both photograph her and stayed calm while I pulled out her quills.

Moments after I had pulled the last one, she returned to her posing rock.

Bravo was not so phlegmatic about his predicament.  I managed to pull a couple of quills, but he would thrash about for five minutes after each removal; he was much more thoroughly decorated than Cleo, and at the rate of one quill every five minutes, I figured we’d be at it for 14 hours.  With the help of my friend and frequent rescuer Wendy Pelletier, we loaded him into her car* and drove 30 minutes to the veterinary clinic.  Through the magic of modern sedation, the vet was able to get him sorted in just a few minutes, and by this evening, he was seemingly back to normal.

I’m still unsure how a porcupine got into the sheep enclosure in the first place, since (now that my ground wire is connected) I’ve got better than 4000 volts on the fence.  I can only imagine that he climbed one of the trees overhanging the field and dropped in for a visit, though I’m not sure what the appeal might have been.  I’m also unsure how he got out, as there were no trees to facilitate his escape; perhaps with two guardian dogs paying attention to him, the fence voltage seemed like less of a concern.  I half expected to find a porcupine carcass in the field, but I only saw some suggestive bits in the area where the encounter must have occurred.

Now I’m wondering what lessons might have been learned.  I’d like to believe that this family of porcupines might have developed a strong negative association with sheep.  I’m less hopeful that Bravo and Cleo will choose a different path if they encounter another walking pincushion.

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*I know I said that Bravo doesn’t ride inside, but these seemed like extenuating circumstances.  To keep him from causing any more havoc on the way to the vet, I rode in back with him, hanging on to his leash and trying not to get stuck by any of his quills.