Swine... http://www.guardian.co.uk/elsewhere/journalist/story/0,7792,779780,00.html A walk on the wild side A recalcitrant wild boar has moved into a Paris park, to the disquiet of local residents and the small taskforce dispatched to hunt it down, writes Jon Henley Friday August 23, 2002 Visitors to the stately Parc du Chateau de Sceaux in the southern Paris suburbs have been disappointed this week: on the gates hangs a hastily-printed notice saying that the park is closed until further notice. Inside, two wardens on horseback and four trained marksmen with Winchester rifles pace the wide, tree-lined avenues and manicured lawns, while a small army of 50 perspiring beaters and a dozen dogs slowly quarter the dense thickets. Such activity has, of course, prompted speculation. "Would this be the arrival of the werewolf of London, come to spend its summer hols in Paris?", wondered Le Monde. Or the return of the Beast of Gevaudan, that terrifying semi-mythical monster that devoured 150 unfortunate souls in south-west France in the mid-1760s? The reality is almost as unlikely: somehow, an errant wild boar has managed to make its way across several main roads, brave the housing estates, hypermarkets and high streets of Antony and Fontenay-les-Roses, and gain illicit access to the park's 450 welcoming acres. Wild boar are not a rarity in France. Tens of thousands of them are slaughtered by huntsmen every year, including nearly a thousand in the Ile de France region that includes greater Paris. But only very, very rarely do they venture into the urban environment. "This is truly exceptional," said Bernard Lefevre of the National Hunting and Wildlife Office. "The last time anything like this happened around here was in 1995, when an adult male wounded four policemen who were trying to eject it from a municipal tennis court in Epinay." Wild boar, Mr Lefevre said, have to be taken seriously. "They are large and powerful wild animals, and in the rutting season they are perfectly capable of attacking humans or rounding on dogs," he explained. "There's no way we can open the park while it's still in there." The unfortunate boar's days are therefore numbered, because Mr Lefevre and his colleagues have no intention of trying to capture it alive. "As a species, they are a long way from facing extinction," he pointed out. "They cause dozens of road accidents and over 1m euros of agricultural damage every year. There's no reason to show any sympathy." Which is not the case for the boar's cousins on the sunny Riviera, where well-to-do residents have taken umbrage at the local authorities' decision to implement a shoot-to-kill policy aimed at drastically reducing the area's population of sanglochons - an odd breed derived from crossing a wild boar (sanglier) with a pig (cochon). Officials say the sanglochon's numbers have increased by some 600% over the past decade and the species has become a veritable plague, rooting around in dustbins, ruining lawns and wreaking havoc in vegetable patches. Some 2,000 have been shot so far this year. "They breed like rabbits, and unlike genuine wild boar, they actually seem to prefer an urban environment," said Emmanuel Marteray, a wildlife expert. "They're generally much less aggressive than their wild cousins, but they're not much appreciated round hear because they love root vegetables, bulbs, fruit and worms." Sentimental Riviera residents, however, have drawn the line at seeing the poor beasts brutally mown down before their eyes by council sharpshooters. After a number of protests from shocked eye-witnesses, the local authority wildlife department has promised to restrict sanglochon-slaughtering expeditions to the after-dark hours. Back in the Parc du Sceaux, however, there's still no sign of the intruder. "He's very happy in here," said Mr Lefevre. "It's going to take quite some time to track him down."