The dog knows.......

For weeks Gunner's been telling me that there's something interesting under the straw stack in the barn and for weeks I've been telling him that there's no way I'm moving umpteen bales of straw just to satisfy his curiosity!

Today I reached the bottom of the stack - and realised what has been attracting his attention! And it's not very nice.

Doesn't matter where you live, you are never very far from a rat: in the country, especially if you have animals, rats are constantly in evidence.

Mostly you only see where they have been - droppings, footprints in the snow, broken feed sacks, holes everywhere........ If you see a live rat scampering about, then you know the population is getting out of control.

Everytime I see a rat, I put down poison.

We always have holes in the feedsacks if we leave them unopened in the feedroom for more than a couple of days. I'd particularly noted that sow rolls were top on the list for attack....

A month or two back when I went out to check the horses at bedtime I caught sight of a rat darting from one corner of the hay barn to another. So I put down some poison.

Today under the pallets which we use to keep the straw off the floor and away from the walls I found something I've never seen before - a fully formed rat nest - see first photo - complete with rat. She'd wound the straw round tightly between the pallets and had interspersed the straw with sow rolls - no need for mum or any little ones to travel too far to eat whilst suckling. And the whole corner (photo 2) was full of yet more sow rolls - probably at least 2 or 3 lbs. There were droppings everywhere but, also, as the third photo shows, a large amount were concentrated in what appears to be a latrine, of which I found two others. A really tidy arrangement. I've never had to consider what a rat's nest would look like but I suppose I thought it would be just a muddy hole underground. This one was quite the 'penthouse'!

And I am really pleased that the rat ate the bait before the babies were born otherwise I might have had a very nasty surprise indeed when I moved the last bale of straw away!

But the dog's nose was right......

P.S. to the Previous

....Shows how little I know! Consulting the Game Book, I learned that wild hare is best hung for 7-10 days.......

So yesterday's task will now be next Sunday's....................

and "yes" that is Gunner's nose sniffing the hare's backside...... recording the smell for future reference......

If you go down to the woods today .....

If Gunner were not The Bestest Gundog in all the World he could very well qualify as The Lincolnshire Poacher's Bestest Friend!

First we had the very tasty coot and waterhen for Christmas....

Then the rotund rabbit caught under the snow which made a very, very nice pie..... Then - just before the Season comes to an end - he totally overwhelms me by catching a hare!

He didn't chase it - because he knows that Gundogs never chase hares. No ... he leapt on it where it was hiding in the dense brambles of the woodland we were beating through this afternoon... And having totally surprised it, he grabbed it and wouldn't let it go..... despite it squeaking and bucking.... and he managed to carry all 8lbs of it to me, 40-50 yds away through yet more dense brambles without dropping it...... What a clever dog. It was obviously still alive when he gave it to me so and I had no hesitation in taking up the offer of one of my male colleages to "carry that for you, shall I" through the remaining acres of extremely thick brambles......

And we got to bring it home at the end of the day.... so tomorrow, for the first time ever, I get to skin and cook a fresh hare................................... Hmmmmm.

Now, that's what I call a real hunting dog......

Hello My Darling.......

Within 4 days of weaning the sow comes back into season and is ready to receive the boar again. Since Sunday, Ginger has been wailing like an Elephant.. clearly distressed and trying to tell us something.

"She's definitely not happy" said Linda yesterday.

Mangal's been hanging around at the gate to her pen: he's hidden another food bowl in his ark: "Ginger's made a serious job of clearing out her ark too" Linda continued.

We had to do something.

So today we hatched a plan: at tea-time we would feed Ginger in her middle pen; then open the gates between them and Mangal would eagerly go up to Ginger and her food - at which point we'd close the gates thus leaving Mangal's pen - which is the one next to Alfred - empty and Ginger well away from Alfred and his evil intentions.

So at tea-time this evening we opened the gates between the pair and waited......

Ginger quickly made her way in Mangal's direction: they met at the entrance to Mangal's pen.... she wouldn't go down (the big step) and he wouldn't go up (the big step) but there was a whole lot of Mangal nibbling her ears and her coat and her face and even tearing bits of her wool. Nonchalently and quietly she acquiesced: then went back to her tea. Then returned for more: then went back for more tea.

"It's a big step for him to climb" I said, as Mangal chewed at the concrete and at the gate post and made out that there was no way he could climb up to Ginger's quarters. It was getting dark. We watched and waited. Eventually Ginger capitulated and jumped down the step into Mangal's pen.

For the next 10 minutes or so they were in his ark together making all sorts of noises and banging and clattering.

And then Alfred, next door, finished his tea and realised there was something quite interesting going on.... and started pacing up and down the dividing fence, giving the occasional groan ....

"Uh Oh" said The Boss "I don't like this at all: we can't leave Alfred there if Ginger is in season...."

"But she's not - yet" I said.
"She soon will be" he replied gloomily

So we spent a frustrating 10 minutes trying to work out if and how and where we could move Alfred .... but with just the two of us and the field too soggy to drive the trailer into we kept coming to a dead end.

"Just have to leave them to it" he decided in the end. And home we went: He wondering if we'd be able to sleep; me wondering if he'd wander out in his dressing gown in the middle of the night.... or, more likely poke me and suggest one of us ought to go and check if everything was OK.

As ever with animals though if you go away and leave them to it everything gets sorted.

Going out to shut up the chickens soon after dark I stopped by Ginger and Mangal to see what was going on: Mangal's ark was deserted: looking beyond I saw Mangal by the step up to Ginger's quarters and, as I watched amazed, he sprang up - as light on his feet at Muhammed Ali - and trotted into Ginger's pen where the pair of them started nuzzling and nibbling and circling each other --- and were totally oblivious to my quietly closing the gates and solving the 'Alfred problem'.

"Think you'll be able to sleep well tonight after all" I commented to The Big Boss as I poured him a glass of wine when I returned back indoors........

I imagine the same will apply to Ginger and Mangal ....... eventually....!

Wallowing and weaning

The original Plan consisted of many interlinked and related moves:- piglets away from Ginger, Delila away from Clyde, Precious away from Samson, Whiskey to Samson, Brandy to Clyde, Delila's weanlings to the field, Alfred from the field to the pen they vacated, Precious' 10 weanlings to a different pen and Mangal to Ginger. There might even have been a couple more which I can't remember!

And the Whole Plan was to be executed in a series of co-dependent moves in one continuous session...................

"What fun!" I exclaimed when it was revealed by The Big Boss over tea one morning last week.

Possibly the most important component of The Plan was the use of the trailer to transport the residents from one place to another around Rectory Reserve!

Just one small problem. At first it was the snow which hindered execution. Then it was the snow melting. Then it was the pouring rain. Then it was the sheer volume of mud created by the combination of those factors.

Nature was clearly not going to play ball. Even with 4-wheel drive, there was no way we could drive in and out of gateways and up and down the field the number of times The Plan required.

"Why not just wean Ginger's piglets since that's obviously the most critical thing" said Con when the dilemma was explained to him on Friday morning! That's what a different perspective can do.... We were just hung up on The WHOLE PLAN!

Arriving with her whole paraphenalia of 'wallowing in the mud gear', Linda's face fell a little bit when she heard that only Step 1 was going to be attempted but she soon perked up when she realised that even that would require some pretty deft hand and foot co-ordination which would all have to be carried out in Ginger's pen. (See first photo of Ginger up to her hams in gloop!)

Tony arrived to lend a hand after lunch and so the 5 of us set about preparing for the weaning.... basically making a 'run' of hurdles from Ginger's pen to what was to become the weanlings pen in the field - a distance, fortunately, of only about 30 yards......

And then "The Plan -Step 1" clicked into action - just like clockwork really. Tempt Ginger away from her piglets with some delectably tasty bits of fruit (the little ones are slower to move through the gloop): shut gate between her and the piglets: open gate to the run: tempt piglets (more food) into the run and down to the field: shut gate in field when piglets inside.

That all worked almost like clockwork - with four of the piglets. Excellent. Then we had to try and get the other two. Which involved quite a lot of wallowing and wading through the mud. After several minutes number 5 was caught (by the back leg - by Linda, up to the top of her wellies in mud) and, making a hell of a racket whilst being transported to the run, eventually went the right way. Ginger went bonkers, snorting and dashing up and down the fence and trying to get to the remaining piglet - who eventually squiggled through the gate to Mum!

"Oh damn" said everyone except Tony who couldn't see what was going on from where he was standing...

No way Ginger was going to let anyone near her piglet. So we had to tempt Ginger away; luckily she was hell bent on getting to the safety of the ark which was in the other pen so she ran that way no doubt thinking piglet was right behind her - which he was, but his speed was somewhat hampered by the gloop (or his short legs, depending on how you look at it) and I managed to shut the gate so he was trapped on the other side again. And then it was just a matter of catching the little chap. Con really enjoyed wallowing and diving for the elusive back leg! After several attempts, probably in sheer frustration, he lunged, grabbed and - hey presto - swung the very surprised piglet up in the air, just managed to hold on to the by now squealing and squiggling muddy mass and passed it over the other fence into Linda's waiting arms..... where it continued squiggling and wriggling and quickly fell to the ground - speedily followed by Linda who, showing amazing dexterity and grit (not to mention an extremely mucky face!), grabbed and held on to a back leg while Con leapt (proving it is possible to leap out of gloop) over the fence from the pen and scooped the piglet up from the ground, quickly passing it over the hurdle into the run, then leapt over the hurdle into the run himself and helped The Boss herd the now-thoroughly-disoriented piglet down to join his siblings!

"Right" said Con "Who did you say we were moving next?" and we just fell about laughing..... The Boss had forgotten to mention to him that we were only weaning Ginger's piglets.....

"I assumed, since it was his idea, that he knew" said Brian later!

And, much later, we all agreed that it was a good job that the rain had eased by the time we started......

And, just for the record - Ginger stopped calling out to the piglets within 15 minutes (you can see her looking through the far fence in the background of the last photo - Delila's weanlings in the foreground; the other one looking on is Nigella, soon due to farrow) and they seemed to forget all about her the moment their snouts hit the feed bowl - ie. as soon as they entered the new pen........ and later on they were gambolling around like spring lambs, really delighted to have solid ground under their little trotters ......................

The answer was "No"!

"Surely you won't be going beating in this?" said The Big Boss looking through the kitchen window at the blizzard raging outside as I was about to leave for the day's shooting on Friday.

"Hardly believe it myself!" I replied, picking up my rucksack of 'might be needed on journey' essentials (Tony's Special Bread cheese sandwich, hot soup, hip flask, dog's lunch, spare gloves, hats,fleece, whistle, lead etc etc etc).

"We'll probably be home within the hour!"

Huh! The heck we were!

That little blizzard eased in time for the Guns to arrive 'on time' and off we went.

"We'll take them through the middle" chortled Plum the Keeper "and with the good shots we've out today we'll be done and dusted by dinner!" (confusingly, that means lunchtime..)

Boy was he wrong........ thanks to two chaps getting it seriously wrong when sent on 'Point' (possibly The Most Heinous Crime in life-in-the-field) two key drives were ruined (birds flew the wrong way) and we found ourselves battling through numerous snow showers and storms till almost dusk in order to satisfy the shooting men.......

Saturday morning: "I've been worrying about you driving over to the shoot today with all the snow on the roads" said The Boss on waking to the sight of yet more snow falling.

"I'll be OK in the 4x4 if I take it steady" I said with absolute confidence - almost. But I packed some cat litter and a shovel and an extra jacket and a sleeping bag - just in case. And off we went. And, actually, a steady run at max 40mph saw us, uneventfully at the meeting place in only double the time it normally takes us. And we battled through snowstorms and blizzards again. Again on the promise of finishing early if the guns achieved the 'Bag' they wanted. Which of course - again - they didn't. So once more we returned home at dusk - slowly though on far clearer roads than in the morning.

I feel I am beginning to learn a few lessons:

1 Finishing early "if the Guns get their bag" is a Gamekeeper's whacking white lie

2 Only pea-soup fog stops a day's shooting........

It has been cold... again

Global warming is clearly something to take seriously.

In December 2007 this blog recorded the earliest sighting of primroses and snowdrops during a decidedly balmy month.

In January 2009 it reported a prolonged cold spell during which temperatures in England reached -11C and all the pipes and automatic waterers at RectoryReserve froze for an inconveniently long period.

(The Global Climate Conference took place shortly before Christmas 2009: one of the disappointments was that participating countries could not agree to measures to limit global temperature increases to l.5C.)

Just short of a year later Britain is experiencing "the most prolonged period of cold weather" in over 30 years with temperatures fluctuating between 2C and - 15C; salt and gas supplies, say the pundits, may run out and transport networks across the country are crippled. Business groups are warning that the "big freeze" could cost the economy up to £2 billion and up to 40% of the workforce face being stranded at home!

At the risk of sounding repetitive, global warming is clearly something to take seriously!

We have had snow, on and off, since the middle of December. The outdoor water supply has been frozen since the week before Christmas and, at the beginning of this week, the supply pipes started 'popping' off under the force of the cold.

It is all very picturesque and, if ones dresses accordingly, not that bad (compared with, say, the gloopy mud which preceded the snow) apart from the extra hour or two spent, each day, carrying cans of water around the curly coat's quarters; the chickens may be complaining about cold feet but the ducks are perfectly happy - as long as a good fairy breaks the ice on the pond each day ... which so far she has managed to do, just... and Samson has promised Precious a new sledge which he seems to feel would be a far, far better use of the fence posts.......

Meanwhile, we learn that the shooting of certain species such as coot, waterhen and woodcock (which, since Christmas we obviously take a keener interest in.....) has been temporarily banned in Scotland owing to an ancient

law which prohibits the shooting of certain game during periods of extreme cold. The BGiatW and I were surprised that shooting around here continued despite the first of the snows. We were even more suprised shortly before Christmas when it continued despite the fact that we were virtually snowed in at home and had to be collected by the Gamekeeper. Now we are wondering whether forecasts of the biggest snowfall for 20 years, expected tonight, will put paid to the 4 days of shooting we are booked to 'beat' at over the coming weekend.......... Surely that will stop even the most intrepid Guns from pursuing their sport......??????

We will report in due course.....