In reply to Joss:
I started off climbing in the Mournes. I've no idea why, but there seem to have been more knackered sheep there than in any other mountain area in which I've climbed. An early memory (1967) is of hearing a knackered goat get repeated shotgun blasts - interspersed with pitiful bleating.
The farmers didn't seem too worried. I commuted for two days between a sick sheep and a farmer before realising that the latter was never going to come out for it...
Somebody (I can't remember who - denial??) told me how to kill/not kill a sheep. It worked.
I've got faults (bad ones) but, thankfully, violence to stricken creatures ain't one of them.
So don't worry...
Mick