On show again!

Another marker in the RectoryReserve calendar came - and went last weekend: Our third year of attending Heckington Show.... and, to celebrate, we took the plunge and decided to overnight the pigs there, enabling them to be on show for the full two days! We had a few qualms about the fireworks on Saturday night, but (thanks, probably to Linda popping in to tell them a bedtime story) the piglets were unperturbed and, to all appearances, had a good night's sleep.

And why not?

The Mini Movie Stars managed to draw the usual crowds of wondering, curious and inquisitive onlookers. Many on whom were interested to know their names!Since we've only ever called them by their collective title, that was a bit of a problem! So, whilst spending hours photocopying further literature (we ran out of every last piece before the end of the first day!) we suddenly had an inspiration:

"We'll give them names associated with Tennyson" said I.

"Good idea" said he (Tennyson having been born locally and half the rooms in our house being 'named' after him). Thus, Mavis and Maud - the two red girls - Lotus - the blonde girl and Alfred the little red boy were 'introduced' to their visitors on Sunday!

Before the show we'd been a little anxious about how the four weanlings would manage in a relatively confined space for two days: but they soon got it sorted. The spare bale of straw in the corner was declared the loo (Smart! certainly no chance of accidentally rolling over into a dirty patch in their sleep) and the rest of the space then proved quite enough to rootle and roll and sleep in. When the adulation, ear stroking and nose-poking all got too much Alfred buried himself under a pile of straw - much to everyone's amusement cos all that could be seen was his tail and what it was attached to! Maud, on the other hand, found that bathing her front trotters in the water bowl was the coolest way to overcome the heat of the public glare!

As in previous years the Bestest Gundog attended in his capacity of Pig Guard in Chief; happy to talk to passing dogs and be petted by endless children (and some not so young), he nonetheless managed eventually to settle down and sleep under the table for the odd hour or two! Whatever the privations of attending the show, it was infinitely preferable to being left at home with Pilot - particularly since the latter, on the Sunday morning before we left, decided to take himself off for a long exploration into the distant undergrowth. We couldn't wait for him to return so Gunner would have been on his own in the house all day - a situation that's never arisen before! Returning home at the end of the day, we found Pilot in the porch looking out through the dog flap and not in the least perturbed! Though he did happily run indoors and collapse in his favourite chair for the rest of the evening, doubtless worn out from guarding the house on his own all day!

Mavis, Maud, Lotus and Alfred meanwhile behaved impeccably throughout the whole weekend. More than a few people commented that : "These are the most laid back pigs I've ever seen"..... well..... they did sleep quite a lot of the time, but then they are only babies!

Loaded and unloaded like professionals for both journeys too and - just like us - soon after arriving home, collapsed in a heap and slept for the rest of the evening - and much of the next day. Aaaahhhhhhh!

Let's talk ducks!

Let's talk ducks.

They are the worst mothers and probably made more so in the presence of chickens. What happens is the ducks find what they think is a safe place and start 'building' their nest. An egg a day, cover it up and walk away. But then along comes a chicken - finds the nest, says "Oh that's convenient" lays an egg and walks away.

Back comes duck. Sits on nest. Cycle continues. For days and days. Then the duck decides there are 'enough' eggs so starts to sit in earnest. But half the eggs are hen's. If it's a good duck, she chucks these out after a fortnight or so (presumably when the noises inside the eggs start not to sound like ducklings?). But a not-so-good duck sits and then gets confused (chickens hatch after 21 days and ducklings after 28) because the egg makes like it's going to hatch but it doesn't (is it something to do with temperature?I don't know) So, one of two things happen. The duck gets really confused and gives up and walks off - leaving a nest of some 15-20 eggs, at least half of which are ducks' eggs. So nothing hatches. Or, only a few ducklings hatch because the stupid chicken races to sit on the nest and lay her egg whilst the duck is away for food - and the chicken doesn't get up in time at the crucial stage and so the ducklings either don't hatch or only a few hatch......

And the latter is what's happened this year. 5 Ducks made nests to date. One hatched a duckling but it didn't survive.... I think the duck got pushed off the nest by a hen who then beat up the little one. Two others have managed to hatch a few eggs; of these, one hen has one duckling (of 4) left and the other has managed successfully to look after 3 out of 5. This contrasts with the year before last when the ducks left the hen house (thanks to the 'raiding' by the pigs!) and found nesting places well away from the hens and managed to raise broods of 10 or more.

The lesson is - keep ducks and chickens well apart when the broody season comes round.

I will work on this for next year.

Funnily enough, once hatched, chickens tend to leave ducklings alone. The real danger seems to be the other mother ducks beating up each other (and the ducklings). But then the chickens get nasty because if they spy a poorly duckling, they go and pick on it till it dies - unless a human is quick enough to intervene.

Another reason to keep ducks and chickens apart.

Meanwhile, I have two more ducks sitting on nests: one of these has at least 50% chicken eggs and the other I don't know about because the mother has not been off the nest when I've been around. So, who knows what will be produced? In the past I've always thought the most dangerous time for ducklings is the first 48 hours when, if they don't get beaten up by other ducks or hens they are in danger of falling on their backs and, their wings not being very strong, can't get back upright. Or they get walked to death by their mothers. Now I realise that is the least of their problems.

It is probably best to remove ducks and ducklings to a safe place and keep watch on them for the first 48 hours or so.

Something else to think about for next year!

Golden chick

There's always something to look forward to here!

We've had an awful time this year with broody hens and ducks. Lots of them sitting on lots of eggs (which we then, of course, can't eat or give to our friends etc) and then not producing v. much. So far, Daffodil did her best and hatched one: the black bantam tried hard and hatched two (normal hen) chicks and then the other bantam really excelled herself and hatched a solitary - though lovely - one. In all that time, probably a good 6 dozen eggs were 'wasted' (30 for the bantam beauty alone). And that's not to mention the ducks. So we won't - for now.

I was therefore none too impressed when I discovered that one of the Buff Orpingtons (Honey) in the Orchard had decided to suddenly go broody. Nonetheless, two weeks ago I moved her from there to the broody coop and resigned myself to the possibility of one more chick --- from the 12 eggs we moved with her.

So it was a lovely surprise to go out on Friday morning last week and find Honey fussing around 4 little chicks..... and then to suddenly see another one pop out of the broody coop.....! So 5 little chicks.... and one of them is our very first Golden chick. Already named ---- Goldie. Aaahhhh. Clearly a male, cos he's quite precocious and already today, just four days later, he was escaping from the safety of the broody pen and had to be rescued......

A few days after Honey decided to go broody, her sister Syrup promptly started sitting on a nest.

So, a week or so ago we moved her - with 16 eggs.

Wonder what she'll produce?

Not a lot, I would guess, because within the first day of moving she'd already deserted half the eggs..... Probably end up with another solitary chick..... but all will be forgiven if it's another golden bird!

Dogs-- and A Dog Rujuvenated

Over the past 25 years or so we have enjoyed the pleasure of 6 dogs. Each has enhanced our lives in different ways, made us smile, despair, laugh a lot and learn a lot. Burgher was the first: rescued from a police pound at about 11 months, he was too shy or maybe too damaged by his life to that point to even look up or play with a ball. But gradually he came out of himself, became familiar with every inch of Hyde Park and every one of the ladies of the night around our part of London! When we moved to the country, after an initial period where he just 'got his bearings' - and our neighbour wondered how we could leave him alone in the front garden where there was no fencing to prevent him going out on to the road and beyond - he soon became the Rover par excellence. Whenever he felt like it, which was often, he would take himself off down the lanes and through the gardens and across the very busy main road (via the pedestrian crossing, people used to tell us) to the huge acreage of woodland known as Burnham Beeches. Without fail, three hours later he would be back home again! (One day even bringing a friend with him) If ever I was lost when we walked through the Beeches together, which happened quite often in the early days, I would say to him "Where's the car?" and he'd take me straight to it (literally--- not along recognisable pathways)! He was red and white and looked more fox than dog and taught himself all kinds of 'tricks' like opening doors, carrying up to four balls in his mouth or putting those and his toys in a bag and carrying that around. When injured and having to wear an Elizabethan collar, he used it to scoop up the puppy and pin it against the kitchen cabinets! Bugsy really was one in a million. Unfortunately, he never got to see RectoryReserve because I think he would have had a new lease of life here.

The little puppy was Trooper, found abandoned by the roadside the morning after the Great Storms of '87. A Mongrel, looking like a Labrador crossed with a Whippet, he lived to the wonderful age of 17 and in all that time loved nothing more than carrying the biggest sticks he could manage or to chase balls - all day long if someone would oblige. One time he was so intent on the ball that had been thrown across the garden that he failed to see the garden bench and ran full pelt straight into it! Did he scream? And he was so sore that he couldn't jump up on the sofa for the best part of a week. He was a bit of a wimp - screamed the house down when he had to have his toe nails clipped..... and hated the rain .. but he was my shadow and followed me everywhere. The little black dog was as loyal as they come but probably didn't have more than two peas for a brain!

Then there was Captain! Rescued from the same police pound as Burgher, he was our first Springer Spaniel. And he was the most lovable, cuddly, soft hearted, cheerful dog a person could wish for. He was always smiling and happy and everyone loved him. But was he frustrating! He had no sense of direction so was always getting lost in the woods. Also, he was wired back to front: if he saw us in the distance calling him, he would look, take note -and promptly run the other way. Many was the hour we spent waiting for him to come back to the car! Which he invariably did in a filthy wet state from bashing through the undergrowth or - his passion - chasing ducks across the ponds and ditches. He was incorrigible: he would not come out of the pond if there was a duck in it. On one memorable occasion, within weeks of major surgery and when he'd only just had stitches removed from his stomach, he ran (despite our efforts to stop him) to a very big duck pond and spent 20 minutes chasing them from one end to the other (their wings were clipped so they couldn't fly off) only coming back to us when he was contentedly exhausted! As a youngster he had managed to retrieve a live duck off that same pond and bring it to us at the water's edge where he dropped it proudly at our feet: after a couple of minutes the duck got up, shook itself and happily waddled back into the pond -- where it was chased again by Captain.....! He was a real introduction to Spaniels and although he spent an inordinate time at the vets and recuperating from operations and injury (undoubtedly incurred through his unquenchable lust for life), he was never down or miserable. He just loved life.

He passed on a year or so after we moved to Rectory Reserve. After him, there was no doubt that the only dog to follow on would be another Spaniel.

We had already rescued Lancer from Milton Keynes following Burger's departure. So when Captain passed on to new hunting grounds we found Pilot locally. Bred from a rough shooting bitch and a well regarded stud dog, Pilot was destined to be a rough shooter's dog. But, for various reasons, the family's circumstnaces changed and Pilot was advertised for sale at 4 months in the local papers. We went to see him and immediately said we'd have him.

He was such a bundle of energy: on his early walks he would charge at 100mph in any direction and when he tired, which was quickly at his young age, he'd just suddenly sit. Then he'd get up and run again. Then sit. Then run again. And that really became the pattern of his life. Forever charging off in search of something, leaping over any and every fence, wearing himself out and then flopping down and sleeping. He's never been interested in games ('specially not 'training' games), learned as many of the things we needed to teach him as he felt necessary and spent many happy hours digging up rabbits. A familiar background noise has always been Pilot barking in the distance whilst digging holes! And digging is probably his forte. From a very young age he taught us never to leave anything lying around within his reach. He would quickly pinch and then bury anything. ANYTHING!! Boots, shoes, t-shirts, keys, watches, toys, buckets, even on one occasion a duck -- buried it under the yew tree, head up out of the ground and it was still alive!

We had the saying that Gunner was the working Springer, Lancer was the retired Springer and Pilot was the self-employed Springer!

About 18 months ago it seemed he'd finally - at the age of 7 going on 8 - grown up because he stopped pinching things. And he finally stopped dashing madly everywhere and gradually spent more time at home than down the fields. By the time last summer came he was sleeping quite a lot and had quietened down enormously - except when his great mate, Con the gardener, came when he would bark and bark and bark with glee all day just as he always has done; following Con everywhere and getting in the way and insisting on having his tummy rubbed every 5 minutes. By the time winter was coming on I particularly noticed how fat and grumpy he was becoming. But I put that down to jealousy over the fact that Gunner was going out for long days in the field with me and Pilot resented being left at home. Throughout last winter Pilot just got more grumpy and lazy and I joked that even Lancer with his bad leg ran around more than he did!

He continued to put on weight despite my decreasing his feed so I changed his diet and kept reducing the amount I fed him. To no avail. He also seemed to have difficulty swallowing the new food but I put that down to the fact that he was now having to eat it dry with no succulent bits of meat, or egg, included. Still no energy and still miserable and grumpy. Finally, one day when at the Vet with Lancer I noticed a leaflet about cats and thyroid problems.

"Eureka!"

That's it. I have the same problem. Suddenly all Pilot's behavioural and physical changes were explained. And confirmed when I asked the vet if dogs too have thyroid problems.

"Yes" he affirmed and went on to explain that it is quite common amongst, particularly, Labradors although most people are just so used to Labs getting fatter and lazier as they get older that they don't even bother to explore whether there is something wrong with them!

So we booked Pilot for a blood test and 48 hrs later the vet was on the 'phone saying:-

"Excellent diagnosis. Well done! You'd better come and pick up the medication."

Almost immediately the dog was different. By the end of the first month on the meds. he'd lost over 3 kilos and now, a couple of weeks on, looks to have lost another 2 or so. He's back to his old self - of about 2 years ago, which tells us how long he's been feeling poorly. No wonder he was grumpy! He's back to running around everywere and playing like a puppy and - heaven help us, pinching boots! He's even got the patience to play with Gunner - which he has never shown an interest in before. He really is a dog rejuvenated. Thank goodness we discovered the root of his problem .............

Mini movie swine leave home

Sure as night follows day, the weaning of Ginger's litter was quickly followed by the Return of The Camera Men!

Dan the Producer man and his (new) runner, Peter (an even more able and polite chap than his predecessor) and the Expert on Pigs arrived in time (just) for lunch on Sunday before loading up the mini swine stars and heading off with them to their new home.

"Goodness me" remarked Dan t-P-man in some surprise during filming the various stages: "These little chaps are giving me all the shots I need!"

"As if you don't believe they have been in training every day since you were last here?" I countered! Adding that "These little guys have paparazzi pampering in their genes you know".

They really did behave very well, even providing just a little bit of a runaround before allowing themselves to be caught, ear-tagged and vaccinated, provoking Peter into remarking that he would like to be part of "the catching the piglet game next time!".

Of course, in true film star fashion, they did have a few moments of bashful shyness (playing to the gallery, I call it) which only endeared them still more to their onlookers (as if they didn't know it would!). Hiding under the hay can hardly be regarded as seriously scared ....

Apparently there are plans a-trotter for them to be filmed swimming at some future date in their new home....... I just dread to think what a performance they will put on for that event...... no doubt we shall hear if it all turns mega-melodramatic......

For now, though, under the watchful gaze of Puddy Cat, they have gone off to wonderful lush green pastures to tumble and cavort and be pampered still further --- all under the intermittently watchful gaze of the Camera and its Man.

In the meantime, the remaining four are to be polished and preened in time for the annual Heckington Show next weekend..... more of which anon

It's that time again.....

The wildflower bank has really come into its own this summer: it faces south/south west and the long warm afternoons have produced the best wildflower display we have had for many a year, attracting bees and butterflies en masse.

And in the same balmy, summery mood, we tackled the task on Friday afternoon of separating Ginger from her boisterous brood. They are just six weeks old but have been pestering her for the past week for more milk than she felt prepared to give - in this photo you can see one piglet hanging on to a teat for all he's worth!

So we let them have one last drink and then, one by one, carried them the 200 yards or so to the Old Stalls..... which sounds a lot easier than it is..... a few of them are just shocked into silence by being manhandled for the first time but many of them squiggle and squeal for much of the distance. Which is a bit daunting since they weigh a good 15-20 kilos at this stage. Catching them involves cornering them in their pen with a couple of hurdles and then scooping them up from above before they realise what's going on. If you try and catch them by approaching from the front, they just dart hither and thither and, almost inevitably, the human ends up face down in the dirt.

Strangely enough, as soon as they find there's ample food at the other end, they calm down and, seemingly, forget all about mum! That was just cupboard love then!

Ginger meanwhile made the most horrendous noise for the next couple of hours, pacing around and calling out for the little ones. Eventually though she tired and settled down to sleep. Next morning she was calm again and happy to see us for breakfast.

Later in the day we re-united her with Mangal and that made up for everything! Especially when she discovered the huge wet wallow he's spent the past few weeks preparing for her!

"Oh Bliss": "Oh Joy!" we could see her thinking as she paddled and rolled and wallowed to her heart's content. Out she came, wandered round, let Mangal nudge and poke her and then back in again for more rolling and wallowing..... by the time she'd finished she looked like a really curly milk chocolate pig. With a big grin all over her face.

And then there was dinner to enjoy too...... could life get any better? Certainly piglets were a very distant memory.....!!!!

Pastures new and peas

Last weekend was a typical busy 'Open Day' weekend. In addition to all the preparations for our visitors on Sunday, we said 'Good Bye' to Sherry and Baileys who have gone off to Hall Farm Park at South Kelsey - http://www.hallfarmpark.co.uk/ They have joined a large variety of other animals at this working farm where school parties and summer visitors will ensure that they have more than enough entertainment throughout the next few months.

Unfortunately, this means that JD is the only one of Delila's litter remaining at RectoryReserve. And didn't he let us know about it. All day long! Although we put him in the paddock with Bonnie, Clyde, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, he was not happy. We fed him lots; still he was not happy. The others, including Mangel next door, nuzzled and poked him; still he was not happy. He did eventually quieten down - by about dusk - but refused to sleep near his new mates. Next morning he was up very early, pacing around and looking up towards the pen he'd shared with his sisters and making sad little bleating noises. By mid morning though he was quiet - as if he'd worked out that his new mates were now his mates. Fortunately, as the week has gone on they have all gradually become better pals and now all pile up and go to sleep together.

With all the cacophony of JD's heart wringing cries punctuating the Open Day preparations and making us all feel very guilty, we were relieved to collapse at the end of the afternoon and relax with a glass or two - if not entirely in peace and quiet then at least in balmy sunshine.

When, gradually, we became aware of a not-so distant thrumming and rumbling in the surrounding countryside.................. the pea viners had moved in!

This is a truly wonderous sight: vast machines slowly march across the fields harvesting the peas and off-loading them on to accompanying lorries which take them immediately to the factories to be frozen. The viners work 12 hour shifts and are accompanied - rather like a film crew - by lorries carrying loos and canteen facilities. When the field is finished, they all slowly move in convoy to the next location, repeating the process non-stop till all the peas have been harvested. All around the countryside, peas are seeded according to a carefully planned schedule. They then grow in sequence and are harvested in sequence throughout the summer months.

The viners moved in, stripped the c. 20 acre field and were packed up and gone within three hours. Luckily the weather was sunny and the field was dry so they made no mess and left only pickings for the wildlife behind them -- rather than mud on the roads and quaggy fields - which would have been the case had it been wet.

The rain plays a key part in the pea harvest. Not enough of it at the crucial growing stage means the peas don't get out of the ground. Too much means the young plants can be smashed to the ground. Either can lead to a need to re-seed at worst or at best, the carefully planned harvesting schedule having to be re-jigged to allow for nature's influence on the plan!This inevitably leads to expensive frozen peas in the supermarkets. And the majority of consumers are blissfully unaware of the reason why.

The things we learn in the countryside.........!!!

R I P LANCER 26.3.97 - 6.7.09

Discovered through an advert in Horse & Hound one rainy Thursday Morning, Lancer was 'rescued' from a tiny house in the centre of Milton Keynes where he was driving his owner crazy with his over abundance of energy and growing unreliability! Cooped up all day with only short lead exercise and a tiny child for company was proving no life for a young spaniel.

"He won't go in the car" the lady said when we fetched him... "You'll have to tie him in". He didn't hesitate .....In he jumped, sat down and never looked back!

We took him for his first real walk - off his lead, in the woods - and he didn't know what to do! We had to teach him what freedom was. But always he ran in semi circles, ever looking back to us to check that he was not doing anything wrong.

Which he never did. Ever. He very quickly acquired the title of Bestest Dog in All The World (courtesy of our young niece) and, wherever he went, rapidly became everyone's favourite. Throughout all his years there was never a snarl or a snap out of him (except if he was told to get out of the car before it was safely back in its garage!) and one of his favourite things was carrying cushions around the house. He'd rush to grab one whenever anyone came to visit - or if he went to anyone else's house.

When we moved to RectoryReserve he developed a new passion: Poultry. If ever a duck or a chicken found itself outside the pen, Lancer would be there, quick as a flash to retrieve it and return it to us to put back in the pen - with never a single feather ruffled. When asked, in our absence, to "give" a duck up to someone staying at the house at the the time, Lancer looked at her, turned and walked very purposefully back to the duck pen before handing over the duck to be returned to its proper place!

Latterly his favourite place was under a large bay tree at the side of the drive where he could watch everyone come and go, and if he wasn't there he was under a yew tree in the yard watching what was going on.

Sadly he developed sacro lumbar disease following a trapped nerve in his back and it became clear last week that his time with us was not how he was wanting to spend it.

He was one of a kind. We all miss him.

"Everybody loves a summer holiday..."

Except a working gundog!

And The Bestest Gundog in All the World is no exception........

Last summer was fun - it was all about learning new things and going to new places with no idea what for. Now he knows what for but doesn't understand why we're not still doing the work bit. He has no idea yet of the pattern of his life. He is going to be sooooo excited when the new Season starts (18th September and counting......).

In the meantime he's making the most of it and having fun of quite a different kind. For whatever reason, this year we have more rabbits than we have had for many a year. And they have mixymatoses - probably because there are so many of them..... and, unfortunately (for me, not him) TBGiAtW quickly discovered that he can catch them; so hardly a day goes by when he doesn't proudly present me -

"Here, look what I brought you..."

- with at least one poor creature. Which is good on the one hand ---- he brings them to me; and bad on the other - he is only supposed to flush rabbits, not catch them! Even sick ones. Somehow this needs to be learned before September......

The other joy in life is, of course, all the baby birds who can't yet fly; and most days he brings me one of those too.

"Such fun, mum"

Then there's the long grass - which is just so exciting to run through, full of smells and slow rabbits and even slower little birds.............. and seeds. Spaniels attract grass seeds like magnets attract iron filings. They get into ears and nostrils and toes and armpits and ... well, just about anywhere. Visits to the vet are as much a part of a spaniel owner's summer as swallows. At best the seeds just get under the skin and cause cysts; at worst they creep up a leg from the toe, or down ears into eardrums or right up noses or become deeply embedded elsewhere and cause nasty infections which require operations to remove them. To a spaniel owner, long grass is the worst nightmare.

Thus it was today that TBGiAtW had to go to the vet (who told of the spaniel he'd operated on earlier in the week - 35 grass seeds removed from the armpit area!). A swollen left front paw and a nasty red patch on the left back paw had, all week, failed to respond to soaking in salty water ("Paws", like "Ears" now has the effect of making him creep off into a corner and roll over pleading .... "No, no, no, please not the paws" ). When the hair was cut off, the nasty red patch revealed an even nastier cyst beween his toes which required lancing - disclosing the evil grass seed inside.

But the vet couldn't find the cause of the swelling in the front paw - no tell-tale signs of seeds. A bit worrying. Have to give him a 5-day course of antibiotics and see what happens....... And try even harder to keep him out of the long grass (lots of heel work) whilst still letting him hunt where its 'safe' .... I'm rapidly becoming an expert in 'places that don't have long grass'.... which is easy because at the moment they are very few and far between! And there's always the river for a spot of water retrieving on really hot days......... so maybe the spaniel is loving his summer holiday????