When I was a teenager, living in rural Mississippi, there was a hog farm in the next pasture. Sometimes the hogs would get out, especially in the fall when there were hickory nuts under our hickory tree. My smallish black dog (named Brownie) would got barking at them and chase them down the road. When they got tired of running away, they'd chase him back to the house.
On one got hurt but they all got plenty of exercise and ate up the hickory nuts too.