From the editor

It was a cold and foggy morning. At the edge of visibility was the silhouette of a steer.

While I could barely see him, my gut instincts were immediately on high alert. It was a mix of his stance and spatial awareness. The fence wire was invisible in the fog, but I was sure he was on the wrong side of it.

I didn’t go closer to check. I closed the front gates to avoid a full escape and set up a temporary line of white tape to steer the steer into the nearest paddock.

Sure enough, when I finally got close enough, he mournfully turned to look at the mess of wire behind him where he’d half-jumped, half-stomped the fence to knee height. Fortunately, he obediently followed the temporary fence to the gate and ran back to his mates.

Unfortunately, I then spent an hour in the fog fixing his mess.

When I first set up my block, it was for goats. They love to liberate themselves and seem to relish finding new and inventive ways to do it again and again.

The best strategy is to have good quality fences so they give up trying. I used a mix of sheep mesh and multiple electric wires, which has successfully contained even the most gazelle-esque goats for almost 20 years.

But the young steer caught me on a bad day. My goats are all senior citizens now, so I hadn’t tightened the mesh in a few years, and the electric fence was off.

Experience has taught me it’s good to have more than one fence between your stock and the road. If an animal gets past one barrier – be it a goat heading out, or someone’s roaming animal coming in – another fence (or two) gives you a little more time to prevent an unwanted excursion.

Our story on biosecurity on page 14 shows why good fences make good neighbours. It also has long-time stockman

Ross Nolly’s tips for developing your gut instinct, and it’s something I highly recommend. My gut has saved me time, money, and stress more times than I can remember.