#223 Coos and Sheep

 

#223 Coos and Sheep

This post is dedicated to two iconic animals associated with Scotland. Besides the well known castles, kilts, and wild highland haggis, Scotland is known for its highland cows (hei’lan coos) and its abundant sheep with their darling lambs. The long-coated highland cattle and fuzzy sheep are particularly favorites of tourists—including myself. So, this post brings you a couple of stories from my travel book and many photos from my files. I sincerely hope you enjoy both.

These two weren't friendly as they guarded an ancient stone circle near Loch Ness.

Near Bushmill Distillery in Northern Ireland.

One of the more unusual varieties of highland sheep--Boreray, I think.

Saw these two lambs on our way to Machrie Moor on the Isle of Arran off Scotland's Ayrshire coast. They were as interested in me as I was in them.

First a little background. Scottish highland cattle are considered a rustic hearty breed effectively bred to withstand the harsh highland winters. The cattle are characterized by their long double coats and long horns. They generally are gentle by nature, but you should still always approach warily. The colors vary from an off-white to pure black (reds are often the most photographed). 

As for the sheep who outnumber the Scots, they are everywhere—most usually in the road—and the breeds are almost as many as there are hills in Scotland.

On the hills in Glen Clova, central highlands.

Typical. We're hurrying to a tee time on Fife near St Andrews and the sheep don't care.

In Sma'Glen, central Scotland, about 20 minutes away from Crieff where we spent most of our time.

The sheep keep the grasses cropped around the Kilmartin Valley standing stones.

Cows and Sheep on the Courses 

We knew something special was going on when the first green at Narin and Portnoo GC in County Donegal, Ireland, was surrounded by electrified fencing. We discovered that the land on which the first four holes of the course are sited was leased in the winter to a local farmer. To keep the sheep and cows off the greens, the club has surrounded the greens with electric fencing. The second time we played the course a couple of years later, the fencing was gone. The farmer’s lease had run out. Narin and Portnoo is not the only course where electric fencing is used to keep the animals off the greens. Brora GC, a championship track north of Royal Dornoch in Scotland, Achill Island, a beautifully sited nine-hole sheep pasture course off the west coast of Ireland, and Pennard GC in southern Wales still use the electric fencing to protect greens. It makes for an interesting round having to step over a live wire to get to the putting surface. Achill Island GC has another interesting feature. To break up the sheep droppings throughout the course, the grounds crew of one drags an old bedsprings behind a tractor. It does the job as well as fertilizes the fairways.

 

At Leadhills GC, the highest course in the UK at a little over 1200 feet elevation, in the southern uplands of Scotland has no fencing around the greens, but it has plenty of sheep. When we played no people were on the course except us, but there were sheep on practically every green. There were droppings from the sheep and their friends the rabbits on every green as well. At home we brush away droppings from our local oak and fir trees with our hats or hands. At Leadhills you cleared a path with your shoes or you moved the ball to an unobstructed location. It was a little difficult to play to a sheep infested green when your playing partner is saying, “Don’t hit them; they’re so cute.” Anne eventually had to hit right at a couple of sheep, but they quickly got out of the way. The sheep must get very good at dodging golf balls on their course. 

Tourists have to get used to sharing the road with locals at Staffin Bay, Isle of Skye.

Glen Quaich, southern highlands.

The same, evidently, wasn’t true at Southerndown GC in South Wales. The club’s centenary book contains a story of an early competition where a player’s shot hit a sheep and lodged in the wool at the animal’s posterior. The offended sheep bolted forward toward the green. The ball fell out much closer to the green than it would have had it not been carried. The argument then ensued about where the ball should be played--where it hit the sheep or where it finally came to rest. We’ve heard this story told at several other courses. Either sheep behinds have a magnetic attraction for golf balls in competition or it’s a Celtic golfer’s version of an urban myth. 

Black Angus cattle have the run of the northwest beaches near Durness.

The Black Angus do share the dunes with the lambs.

The St Fillans Cow Incident 

St Fillans Golf Club, a club where we are the only international members, is not a cow pasture course--most of the time. The course is a nine-hole gem in the Perthshire hills about 12 miles from our home-in-Scotland base in Crieff. St Fillans is nestled in a small valley surrounded by Highland hills and crags. Running along one side of the course is the small River Earn which flows out of Lochearn. Along the opposite side are cow and sheep pastures which butt up against the hills and an ancient walled off graveyard of the Stewart clan. Although quite flat, the course has interesting holes highlighted by the 3rd which is the only hole with any elevation. It plays from the top of a crag down toward the green about 280 yards away. With wind behind, I’ve driven the green. With the wind into us, a trap and rough on the right are seriously in play. The next two holes play around the edge of the crag which affects shots considerably. The course may be short and flat, but it’s definitely not easy. This sets the scene for our adventures at the sixth green. 

We were playing the course one day with our American golfing friends, Helen and Grady Morgan, who spent four days traveling with us on their tour of the UK. We had all teed off on the 220-yard par 3 (par 4 for ladies) 6th and were half way to the green when the course greenskeeper jumps off of his mower and starts yelling at us to stop the bulls from trampling the green. We quickly turned around just in time to see three young bulls or steers (I didn’t stop to look, but could tell they weren’t Bessies) who had broken through the fence and were heading for the green and us. Neither Grady nor I are farm boys and we didn’t want to start then, but we did what we could and jumped and yelled to try to turn the herd away from the green. We stalled the animals long enough for the greenskeeper to reach us with his mower and he herded them back into their field. We basked in our glory of a job sort of well done and finished our game. 

Scottish White Face, I think.

A Glen Quaich rancher is semi-famous for coloring his sheep in oder to thwart rustlers.

Several years later Anne and I were playing the course and caught up with a couple of women on the sixth who wanted to let us through. As we waited for the group ahead to clear the green, the ladies told us a story they heard about this hole and the day the whole herd of cows got out. Anne and I looked at each other and giggled and said, “We know that story. We’re the ones who corralled the herd, but it was only a herd of three young cows.” 

Galloway belted cattle (belties) are a hybrid breed of highland cow bred to survive on poor upland or highland moors. We saw these examples in Dartmoor Park in southern England. Remnants of a tin mine form the background.

Evidently our story has a life of its own. 

Shop on Edinburgh's Royal Mile.

A mom calling for her second lamb.

NEXT: I'll hunt up something.