Ironbark
New member
I hunted ferel pigs on foot with two dogs and a knife when younger. I now use a 44mag lever action. This is the biggest ferel pig I have seen down under. It was found feeding on a steer it had pulled down during the night.
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We are over run by foxes here as well. They were introduced by the pommies during the convict days and are now in plague proportions.
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Pictures of the best pig dog I ever owned, in fact he was such a good tracker, catcher and lugger, everyone involved in the pig dogging sport wanted pups out of him. Notice the healed scar down the throat under the collar where he was hit by a big tusker!
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Great with the kids as well. here he is guarding their swing set as told to while they were called inside! he would stand guard all day untill called.
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In the picture below, the faint scar, a thin black jagged line, (jagged, only because I am no surgeon and had to sew him up in the field after the event), one can see from just below his left ear to under the collar is when a big boar tossed him off while he was lugging it by an ear and caught him with its tusk, opening him up like a tin can. He went straight back in, no fear. Eventually a mates dog turned up and grabbed the boar by the other ear and I was finally able to grab the boar by the back legs, turned it over on its back and stuck it down its throat with my pig sticker, the dogs never let go, in fact my dog saved my life once when we were dragged into a tributary off the Hunter River, "no pun intended!" by a big boar! I lost my knife in the struggle, the pig pulled us into deeper water my dog never let go once, even though the boar tried to drown him, I hung on to its back legs hoping to save myself and my dog, and my dog knew it. We managed to get back out of the soft mud to firm ground when mates again who heard the boars screaming and tusks smashing together, they tossed me a knife, climbed a tree for safety and left me and my dog to it. Another dog joined in attracted by the commotion, I was eventually able to finish the boar off. Then and only then, after the boar stopped screaming and gnashing its tusks and as it slowly bled out did my dog let go. He went back into the water and actually cleaned himself of the boars blood before returning to my side. As an aside, while pigging in Pilliga Scrub, northern NSW we were rained in. We ran out of food for the dogs and I shot a small piglet, cut it up and threw it on the camp fire and guess what, as hungry as my dog was, he refused to eat any of it. It was not until I was able to shoot a Roo, that he ate! My mates laughed and asked what wrong with him, finniky eater as their dogs consumed the ferel pig? I told them, Boof'y was an Orthodox Jewish doggy! needless to say, I loved that dog. Man, can I remember some of the things He did. Mind boggling.
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Avoid the sharp end at all costs.
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We are over run by foxes here as well. They were introduced by the pommies during the convict days and are now in plague proportions.
Link Removed
Pictures of the best pig dog I ever owned, in fact he was such a good tracker, catcher and lugger, everyone involved in the pig dogging sport wanted pups out of him. Notice the healed scar down the throat under the collar where he was hit by a big tusker!
Link Removed
Great with the kids as well. here he is guarding their swing set as told to while they were called inside! he would stand guard all day untill called.
Link Removed
In the picture below, the faint scar, a thin black jagged line, (jagged, only because I am no surgeon and had to sew him up in the field after the event), one can see from just below his left ear to under the collar is when a big boar tossed him off while he was lugging it by an ear and caught him with its tusk, opening him up like a tin can. He went straight back in, no fear. Eventually a mates dog turned up and grabbed the boar by the other ear and I was finally able to grab the boar by the back legs, turned it over on its back and stuck it down its throat with my pig sticker, the dogs never let go, in fact my dog saved my life once when we were dragged into a tributary off the Hunter River, "no pun intended!" by a big boar! I lost my knife in the struggle, the pig pulled us into deeper water my dog never let go once, even though the boar tried to drown him, I hung on to its back legs hoping to save myself and my dog, and my dog knew it. We managed to get back out of the soft mud to firm ground when mates again who heard the boars screaming and tusks smashing together, they tossed me a knife, climbed a tree for safety and left me and my dog to it. Another dog joined in attracted by the commotion, I was eventually able to finish the boar off. Then and only then, after the boar stopped screaming and gnashing its tusks and as it slowly bled out did my dog let go. He went back into the water and actually cleaned himself of the boars blood before returning to my side. As an aside, while pigging in Pilliga Scrub, northern NSW we were rained in. We ran out of food for the dogs and I shot a small piglet, cut it up and threw it on the camp fire and guess what, as hungry as my dog was, he refused to eat any of it. It was not until I was able to shoot a Roo, that he ate! My mates laughed and asked what wrong with him, finniky eater as their dogs consumed the ferel pig? I told them, Boof'y was an Orthodox Jewish doggy! needless to say, I loved that dog. Man, can I remember some of the things He did. Mind boggling.
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Avoid the sharp end at all costs.
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