This is similar to one of my first direct personal interactions with a sheep (no, not like that).
In my early teens, way back in the last century, I was working during the school holidays at a very-isolated country hotel. This was a proper self-contained operation, with its own farming activities going on....I would literally be pulling veg from garden in the morning, and serving it for lunch alongside poached salmon (and I mean poached in both senses of the word).
Anyway, I looked out to see a sheep had broken-in to the vegetable garden, and it was eating that evening's dinner. I went out, and tried repeatedly to shoo it away, but it had the measure of me as a townie-at-heart, and just kept coming back.
I was suddenly saved by a passing shepherd. He looked at me with utter contempt....shouted "Oota ma way, chiel!!" and with the enthusiasm of a court executioner swung his crook in a savage arc and whacked the sheep so hard on the head that it fell to the ground like a sack of coal.
He then weeched* it up into the air via the curl of his crook (about 8ft high) over the fence whereupon it landed 10ft away, and ran off to eat grass with no obvious ill effects. "Awa ye gang bak intil thi houff an' get on wi yir kitchen wurk" said the sheperd "or mibbi a'll hyke ye owr the fence n'aa!"
So I did. Quickly. The End also
(*Fellow Scots speakers....is it 'weeched' or 'wheeched'? I've often wondered. But I've never written or spelt the word until today, despite having used it for well over half a century)