Is this sheep killer a little too close to home?

It is a thought that few owners could even begin to contemplate, let alone accept, if they had any suspicions at all about their dog.

But then comparatively few dog-owners have had the misfortune to have to deal at first hand with the aftermath of sheep-worrying.

The very term is a typically British euphemism.

When a dog '“ or more commonly dogs, for they are by nature pack animals '“ reverts from generations of breeding as "man's best friend" the results can be truly horrifying.

"Sheep-worrying" can swiftly turn from chasing and harrying to savage attacks.

The story we carry this week is typical of a problem which though, thankfully, not that common is still something that happens on a recurrent basis on Bexhill's rural outskirts.

Buffy the Southdown we picture this week is a pitiable sight. Large chunks of the ewe's flesh have been torn off. She is fortunate to have escaped with her life.

Others were not so fortunate. Another Ewe, Nutmeg, was torn apart.

Claire was also killed. Another sheep in the same ownership was killed in an earlier attack.

By the nature of such attacks, newspapers tend to photograph the survivors, not the dead animals. This spares the readers the full horrors. But it can mask the full seriousness of the problem.

Just as some cats hunt and kill birds so, reverting to their natural instincts, some dogs hunt sheep.

There the similarity ends. While it is almost impossible to place limits on a cat's movements, responsible dog ownership involves an element of control.

Someone, somewhere must have some inkling that their dogs are responsible for the deaths of Nutmeg and Claire and the savaging of Buffy.

The fact that the ewes have been accorded names and are themselves virtual pets makes the attack more poignant.

But the principle remains the same. Had they been members of a large commercial flock and identified only by stencilled numbers their suffering would have been no less.