MORE LESSONS IN THE LIFE OF A WOULD-BE GUNDOG

Off to Rory-the-Trainer again yesterday. Things have been going very smoothly lately. So he decided we'd start with the rabbit pen. Rabbits are my one Big Concern. We've been practising at home. Every night at dusk we're off down the field watching the rabbits running around - and then away when we get closer. The lesson is to sit and watch. Then hunt the ground when the rabbits are gone.

I know. It doesn't sound like much fun. But the idea is to teach young dog that gundogs do not chase rabbits.

However, once my back is turned....????

R-t-T knows my concerns.

So we started with the rabbit pen.

Bless his shaggy ears. He 'hunted' round the rabbit pen; little bunnies popping up everywhere, even under his nose. Did he chase?

Not a single one. Each time one popped up, down went his bum down on the turf like he'd been grabbed by a magnet. It wasn't long before he was sitting and pointing at the bunny before it had a chance to jump up and run away!

What a star!!!!

"Excellent" said R-t-T "Now you must take him out and actively start hunting rabbits with him to ensure he's as steady as this away from the pen..."

Hmmph .....

So, following that it was off to the river for more waterwork.....

I held my breath as Gunner set off for his first retrieve in the water..... and hesitated on the bank as if wondering whether there was any way he could reach that dummy without actually swimming for it!

Much encouragement of the jolly-hockey-sticks variety ensued ---until suddenly he leapt in and swam off after the now-rapidly-floating-downstream dummy!

"Phew"

Once he was wet there was no problem. Degree of difficulty increased until he was fetching a hidden dummy from the opposite bank, bringing it back and then going off to fetch the other dummy which had earlier been thrown in the long grass 50 yds or more away from the river.

The only stumbling block of the day came when we were trying to teach him to 'mark' an object dropped about 200 yds away and he was suddenly assaulted by a pack of 6 or so lurchers ---- the (elderly)owner remarking cheerfully that "they always chase after anything that's moving". She got a very terse response. The other ramblers and dog walkers by the river bank paled into insignificance by comparison - failing to do more than momentarily distract him. And since it was a lovely day, the World and his Wife were out for a stroll - and clearly didn't appreciate the gravity of his situation! Poor Gunner.

Still, he'll face worse distractions when he gets to the 'shoot'.

"He's really coming on" concluded Rory. "The way he looked to you and followed your signals on the other side of the bank prove the homework is sinking in".

So, this week's homework is to practice more distant 'marking' and to continue to embed the basic commands ... and wait and see what Rory can dream up for next time. And hope the rabbit hunting goes as planned........

Meanwhile, we've also been learning the command 'Over' - using the obstacle behind Gunner in the picture to throw dummies (and occasional chew sticks!) over.....

Oh...and the baby swallows in Max's stable have been having lessons too - flying off with their parents in pairs for short spells before returning to the safety of the hayrack... and Rocco's blackbird is still only managing to fly the length of his stable and about a foot off the ground after 2 days of practice!

Presumably this is why swallows go to Africa and blackbirds stay at home......

New Arrivals

It's been a busy week for the birds!

Opening up the Poultry Palace last Friday morning I found three hen eggs in the last remaining duck nest, vacated - I assumed - for morning feed and ablutions. So I removed the hen eggs, in so doing noticing a couple of broken duck eggs. At precisely which moment I also heard a distinct hissing behind me. Turning, I was happily surprised to see mother duck with three little ones jockeying for position underneath her! There was no way I was going to get near mum so equally no way I could move them all to the safe pen. Panic. Going off to visit Mangel's ancestors. Leaving them roaming around the Poultry Palace was bound to lead to dead ducklings.....squashed, drowned, pinched by magpies..... Only thing to do was surround them all with the baby chicks enclosure to keep them secure for the weekend after which they could all be moved. Gave them food and water. On our return on Monday discovered mum had deserted her chicks. In the manner of mother ducks - if the chicks can't follow where she goes, she goes without them. Tough. But maybe she reckons if they can't follow her they won't survive anyway. So, we have three orphan ducks. Which today have moved to the safe pen and are very healthy and well - if just a little shy!

Returning from Austria we also discovered several newly hatched chicks -- the incubator was running a degree or two over the 100 (probably due to the unpredictable swings in weather) so they were a couple of days early. Never a good thing. But 10 have survived and are looking strong and healthy - and are certainly making enough noise for such tiny creatures.

The wild birds have been at it too. Rocco has a just hatched blackbird jigging up and down, trying to fly, in his stable.

Ritz has a nest of 4 just-hatched swallows. And Max has a bunch of 5 swallows who have just about left the nest and will probably be scheduled for flying lessons tomorrow if the weather is fine!

Perhaps the birds think that summer is on the way?

Perhaps they think they'd better get on with it in case it isn't?

Who knows.

But it drives the dogs mad having all the chirrupping little things around! They just want to try and catch them all.

Not Gunner of course - cos he's trained.....!

ONE YEAR ON....

Hardly seems possible that it was a year ago yesterday that we drove up to Danby in Yorkshire to collect our 'newest recruit'. Tony - seen here with a now almost-grown-up Gunner - came with us that day "to share the driving" and to visit Robin Hood's Bay (swathed in fog! Came for the view - hardly saw a thing!) en route. So that makes them 'oldest friends' and Tony's kept a close eye on Gunner's progress over the year.... an interest which Gunner has always reciprocated with his most eager wags and bounces..... ('cept when Pilot's around of course!).

Well, the dog came a long way to get here in the first place and he's come a very long way since ..... physically and mentally if not literally.

What will his second year bring?

Will he continue to grow in character in confidence?

Will he become a working dog?

The Bestest-ever-Gundog? Eventually?

Whatever.

We all look forward to many more happy hours with him........

Adventures in Austria

Difficult to get a feel for the breed when there are only 50 or so in the country. So it was that we took ourselves off for a weekend in the land of Mangel's forefathers. In a programme devised to educate (and exhaust) us, the President of the Austrian Mangalitza Society (185 members) introduced us to a selection of 7 breeders spread across the country's varied terrain.

In two days and over 1100 km we saw Mangalitzas on flat plains and almost vertical hillsides, in small pens and wide open fields; from the traditional Austrian Swallowbelly, like Mangel, to the Blondes and Reds originating in Hungary. Big ones, baby ones, thin ones, fat ones, clean and dirty, charming and awe-inspiring. Good examples and not so good examples, pure bred and dubious (Duroc) parentage. We could not have learned more had we stayed two weeks rather than two days. Our hosts were generous with their time, their experience and their hospitality.

We saw and tasted a vast array of Mangalitza products - airdried, smoked and unsmoked salamis, schnitzels, soups, souffle schmalz, bacon and hams galore, white Lardo, strudel, pates and more: all eaten with gusto and slices of traditional rye bread. Every breeder produces his own products and each was keen that we sample them all. We now have a very good idea of what Mangalitza looks and tastes like in - all its varieties!

In all it was a fascinating insight into this charming breed. Lincolnshire Curly Coat genes were clearly evident in many of the breed lines; certainly the friendliness for which the Curly Coat was known is a trait that has carried through. That the pigs were equally happy on the flat, baked plains as the steep hillsides at 2000 m+ or the dense woodlands around Vienna bears testimony to their versatility.

We came away more than impressed; our education (and other parts) more rounded; our little suitcase weighed down with vacuum wrapped samples of all sorts of parts of pig....... our minds filled to bursting with ideas for the future............

And when we got home and looked at our chaps we thought "As good as any of the best we have seen" --- and then we tucked them up for the night.

Jemima writes to say....

Returning yesterday from a weekend's Adventure in Austria (more of which anon) we find news awaiting from Jemima.

She writes to say she is "missing the Poultry Palace with ensuite pond and delicacies served in a bowl."

The very caring Paul Morris's attempts to upgrade the home water feature have met with upturned beak - "an old cold water tank with entrance ramp? Really!" In a show of contempt she just flapped her way straight out when 'put in'. Now he has given her "an old plastic dog bed" and she is "mortified" sitting up to her ankles (if you please) in it. She threatens to "pack up her sawdust and come knocking" on our door if things don't improve.

It's to be hoped that next week's visit to the garden centre results in something more suitable for a lady of her stature!

However, we believe she may just be doing it a bit too brown because she also writes of her new beau - a male pheasant who goes by the name of False Dimitri - it seems they are all but inseparable and he quite looks out for her!

So maybe there are things more important in a duck's life than a pond?

Gunner to Gundog... tales of the river bank

Mangel was absolutely right to be optimistic. Following a three week break from Lessons-with-Rory (rain stopped play last week) Gunner and I returned this week for the next instalment.

The weather was fine and sunny.

"Right" said Rory when we arrived "Let's go off and see if the dog can swim!"

"I'm taking two others for a session as well so just follow me" and off we drove to the river.

On reaching the parking place, Rory's two dogs were left in the car and he took Gunner down one side of the river bank, instructing me to walk over the bridge and go down the other side. "When you reach the spot opposite me, stop and call him. See if he'll swim across to you"

Gunner was so perplexed at being taken away by Rory that he didn't see where I went so kept looking around and back for me. Poor thing!

When he saw me on the opposite side of the river and heard me call him, his little face lit up. I swear if we'd been on opposite banks of the Thames he'd have come across.

As it was he bounced away from Rory without so much as a by-your-leave. Straight into the water and across ...... then suddenly realised his feet were not supported! He hesitated a brief moment before striking out for the opposite bank (the river's about 10 yards across) and rushing up to me gleefully before giving himself a jolly good shake.

So, no problem going into water.

We then gave him a number of increasingly difficult retrieves into the water. Each one was collected - initially gingerly, but with increasing confidence - and brought straight back to me, given to my hand and rounded up with a jolly good shake.

"Clever boy" said our smiling trainer......

"Let's go and try something a little more difficult"

(and there was I thinking we'd done enough for the first session!)

We hunted him through the long overgrowth till we got to the sluice gates in front of which is a deep pool about 15 yards wide, several feet deep and with banks going down at such a steep angle that they are bound with wire and stone filled piping to keep them solid. Certainly a human would only be able to scramble down.... but not this human who seriously hates deep cold water, never mind scary banks......

"OK" said our now-serious trainer "Take him as close as you can to the edge, sit him where he can see the pool and when I throw the dummy in, send him off for it".

Easy then.

Instructions were followed to the letter.

Dog down bank, jumps carefully into water, paddles a bit, then starts to sink..... (I panic - but quietly. Rory panics - silently also - but later tells me he's thinking 'bugger it, I'll have to go and rescue him') head goes under water .... but then suddenly shoots back up, shakes, gulps, turns and - what a star - swims off in pursuit of the dummy. Gingerly grabs it (so as not to get too much water in his mouth?) and returns to the bank, climbs up and delivers dummy and then shakes furiously.

We repeat this another half dozen times in various configurations and even when the string on the dummy gets caught on the wire of the bank, Gunner is not defeated. He persists till he pulls the dummy free and returns with it.

Rory is impressed.

I am over the moon.

"Truly excellent" he says.

"What a star!" we both agree.

"Much, much better than I ever expected" says the trainer. "I don't think we can teach him anything more today".

Never mind the dog, I am exhausted from all the nervous energy of watching him go off time and again into the seemingly bottomless pool. Certainly if I'd been on my own with him, I'd never have had the courage to send him down there. But that's what trainers are for!

On the way back to the car we carry out a number of increasingly difficult memory retrieves. Gunner copes with all of them, even the really difficult one ... thrown-blind-into-the-very-long-grass -a-long-way- off by Rory. By far the hardest task the little chap has had to deal with. Since it was 'blind' he had to follow my instructions to find it; and he did, every single one until after about 10 minutes of directing and re-directing he finally 'found' and charged back to me with it. He was so pleased with himself, but not half as pleased as his owner and The Trainer.

Rory was effusive in his praise. "That was really excellent. He did everything you asked, really listened and worked with you. The training is really paying off. And he's very stylish with it..." He said a lot more but I was so thrilled with the dog that it didn't sink in...

Lesson over ... and back to the car.

"Just prepare yourself though" said The Trainer "you're about due for a bummer of a session.... training is never plain-sailing......and you've had a straight run of three good sessions... it can't last".

Guess he was just trying to stop us getting complacent.

As if.

Gunner told his mates all about it when he got home .... then collapsed by the fireside, then the Aga... and slept all afternoon.....

By the way, as we left Rory he was collecting up pieces of bread from the back seat of his truck. "One of my dogs won't go into water" he explained "so I'm trying to encourage him with bribes!"

No. I didn't gloat.

(well, maybe just a teensy bit)

Precious proves pig-headed

Moving pigs from one pen to another is never exactly easy. Unless, that is, they are starving hungry or exceptionally inquisitive. We find it impossible to starve any of our animals for even a brief period. We're also learning that 'inquisitive' lasts but a few short minutes before it is replaced by suspicioun. In any move, therefore, planning and preparation are paramount. As soon as either the pig or the people hesitate, all is lost and a long, arduous negotiation follows.

Thus it was on Friday.
The plan was to move Precious from her pen in the woods to the stalls.
The reason: to enable her to meet and mate with the Blonde Boar of her dreams! The maneouvres were all thought through; - hurdles, pig-boards, food, trailer etc etc and, of course, people were all in place. Unfortunately, we clearly had too many chiefs! The planned course of action was sabotaged at the very beginning and a very pleasant hour of 'persuading Precious' ensued. The more we persuaded, the more pig-headed she became. The more we battled to remain calm, the more wound up she became.

It was not a lot of fun.

Eventually, though, we got the better of her. She was loaded in the trailer. She was transported. She exited the trailer and was calm enough about meeting her new companions (Blonde Boar and his Number One Wife). And then all hell broke loose. Pigs don't fly? Well these three did. All around the stalls and all over each other. All trying to beat each other up and prove who was strongest.
Precious just proved herself pig-headed again.
Having assured us there was no actual violence going on, the Big Boss suggested we leave them to it. Eventually - quite some while later - the noise abated. When we went to investigate Precious was collapsed in a heaving heap on the floor - truly exhausted. The other two? They were sleeping quietly in another corner.
The battles continued for the next 24 hours but, luckily, with decreasing intensity. By Sunday they were all OK and now they are all firm friends. As the picture shows. Precious is the one in the middle of the three!

It's too late now, of course, but with the benefit of hindsight one does wonder if it is wise to breed from such a pig-headed young lady!

Lazy hazy days of summer

With one thing and another - personal injuries, mechanical breakdowns, minor system failures and major animal movement issues (more of which another day) - it's been a bit of a hectic week here on the Rectoryreserve.

So it was a relief to have wake up to a quintessentially English summer Sunday - trees alive with birdsong, the honeysuckle buzzing with bees, a slight haze shading the horizon..... all the animals lazing around and relaxing in the sunshine...... none more so than Puddy Cat..... All through the winter months cat virtually hibernates in the house but on days like this she's out and about - never in a hurry but just gently working out what her next move should be.................... perfectly matching the mood of the day.

Eventually she stirred - and langorously ambled off into the undergrowth to see what she might find..... stress or what?

Name that pig!

Ginger would think there was something seriously wrong in the world if the paparrazi didn't turn up to photograph her offspring! Hence, she was visibly relieved when this nice young man turned up on Thursday, camera in hand. His brief was to photograph each of the piglets individually and to take one of Mum together with all the little ones.

Said young starlets were very energetic, darting to and fro in great excitement - whilst pretending to be just a little bit scared! Ginger regarded it all with a knowing look.....

"How will you know" I asked "when you have got a photo of each individual piglet?"

"Yes, well; I didn't realise" said he "that they were going to be quite so lively..." and some while later asked me to quickly look through the 130 he'd taken up to that point to check whether he'd got them all!

Some were easy to identify - like Dozey who always wears himself out quickly and collapses in a heap on the ground. Others were going to take a little longer to sort out.

As for the group photo - I think what the photographer had in mind was seven little piglets suckling (which is what they were doing when he arrived... and he disturbed them!) - but they were not particularly co-operative. Having run around merrily for almost an hour and climbing all over and around their mum, two or three obliged but the others just went on playing - apart from the 'king of the castle' for whom suddenly it was all too much and he just dozed off on top of her.

Was she bothered? Not a bit.

Why all the photos?

The reason is the "Name the Piglet" competition. This will run over the next 4 weeks in the local paper - first two weeks featuring pictures of the characters and inviting suggestions for names: second two weeks listing all the names suggested and asking readers to vote for the most appropriate one for each piglet.

The seven lucky winners will all receive £25 Vouchers for goods from our feed supplier.

No such thing as bad publicity.........

Peace returns to the Poultry Palace

It has been peaceful and quiet in the yard today. The unending sound of Jemima's quacking (almost) sadly absent. Everyone going about their business, swimming, scratching around and sleeping with just moderate amounts of accompanying sounds. Pining perhaps? I even found myself going to check that everything was OK and then remembering that she had gone.

Yes. Paul and Carrie, safely (but exhaustedly) returned from their camping holiday and collected Jemima yesterday morning. They were happy to see her again; said it had been strangely quiet in their garden when they got home the evening before. They'd missed her.

I can understand that.

We miss her. We have Call Ducks but not a single one comes to call the way Jemima does. Our birds are all quite friendly ('cept for Rusty) but not a single one crouches down and 'asks' to have their back scratched. Some of them even like snails, but not one takes such gastronomic delight as Jemima did with her evening dish of crispy things.....

Perhaps one day she'll come waddling and quacking down the drive, knapsack on her back, en route to the pond for a quick swim....

Perhaps...... but I half expect it won't be long before she has a new pond of her own!

Spoilt? Her? Never

Polly revisited

We had occasion to visit Little Polly Piglet in her new home yesterday. It was our first opportunity to see how she's settled and - in passing - to say "How are you" to her new boarfriend who left RectoryReserve a week ago to join her.

We found her happily esconced with her new companions - mostly Gloucester Old Spots, the odd Landrace x GOS and a Large White with "a history" known as Babe** - and still waiting to meet the Boar - he needing to be quarantined for a further two weeks. He's in Polly's old quarantine quarters, known as the Dog Kennel with a pair of fox cubs for neighbours. No wonder he gave us such a sideways look! The Charming 'New Owner' (James Barclay) gave us a guided tour of the premises: very many pigs, even more Lincoln Red Cattle, a serious number of Jacob sheet and not a few horses. All in all - a major handful.

Little Polly is well named: she is only about a quarter the size of her companions and even when fully mature - ie. Ginger's age and size - will still only be about half their girth and height! Now I understand why Mangalitzas are described as 'medium' pigs. James is looking forward to her offspring and also - later on - to crossing her with a Gloucester Old Spot to see whether the result is spotty curly coats......... well, anything's possible......

**The story of Babe: she was 'found' seriously squashed on the A1 trunk road. Rescued and repaired, she was 'given' to James to home. She lived with the family, sharing the terrier's kennel (together with some fox cubs) at night and having the run of the garden throughout the day. She's now a fully mature and very large lady with two litters of piglets to her name (she comes to call) and lives very contentedly with her 'sisters' in the large barn. You can just see her at the back of the trio at the feed trough! Unfortunately, we didn't have time to wait till she'd finished eating in order to get a nice full frontal!! Maybe another day.....