New Chick on the Block

 The bantams have been at it again. For three weeks two hens sat on several eggs. And then the day before yesterday out came this little chick. They sat for another 24 hours and out came another chick. But I think they must have argued about whose that one was because by evening the poor little thing had been trampled all over. It didn't stand a chance.  Now the two mother hens are both fussing over the one little chick and take it in turns to shelter it under their wing; the white cockerel has clearly decided he's the father and fusses around them all the time.
That makes a total of 5 bantam chicks hatched this summer and still pecking around - so far. But I'll not take bets that they'll still be here come the winter.

Meanwhile in the stable barn another chirrupping family of swallows has recently hatched and is currently being fed by what appears to be three adult birds. Occasionally, one sits on the nest - perhaps passing on wisdom in lieue of flies. Now that the harvest is slowly getting underway there is no shortage of food for them so I don't imagine it'll be all that long before they are out of the nest and on the beams for their first flying lesson.
Whilst we were having dinner this evening we witnessed a lesson of a different kind. It would seem that the area bordered by our house, the old Coach House/new garage block and the tall Pine Trees, is a favoured training air for swallow parents to teach their fledglings how to swoop and dive whilst catching food. Every now and then, for 6 or 7 minutes at a time,  the air is full of masses of swallows who suddenly appear from nowhere and start whizzing up and down and to and fro, accompanied by loud, insistent chirrupping. Then, as suddenly as they arrived they are gone. Where to? Across the fields in search of real flies I imagine. One short lesson from their parents and then they are expected to fend for themselves. Is that where the phrase "On a wing and a prayer" comes from?

The real piece de resistance as far as RectoryReserve's birdworld is concerned though occurred this morning when I was off in the car on my rounds. Motoring up the drive I caught something in my peripheral vision that caused me to almost swerve up the bank and into the Ash tree. I drew to a halt and looked back and, sure enough, there it was on a fence post. I quietly got out of the car and took a couple of snaps. It didn't move. Since I'd driven past it once I decided to drive slowly back to it. Still it didn't move, except to turn its head very slowly in my direction. I let down the passenger side window, intending to take a photo from this close distance. I couldn't have been much more than 5 or 6 feet away. It remained unmoving, gazing down at me insouciantly as if I were a fly that had strayed into its line of sight. The little camera couldn't focus from inside the car so I leaned gently over towards the passenger side of the car. The Barn Owl gave me an imperious glance and then oh so slowly and silently spread its wings and sailed off across the field. I was mesmerised, camera completely forgotten.
I don't imagine I will ever again have the good fortune to get so close to a Barn Owl. It's not often life chucks a diamond in your face. Truly a moment to treasure.

Auf Wiedersehen Truffle

 Despite the fact that Mangal is a Swallowbelly we get very few piglets of that colouring here. In fact, to date only two litters have included swallowbellies as half their number. The first was the Stars (or Delinquents as they later became known) - of which Andromeda is a member - born to Delila and Clyde. The second was the Truffles, born of Cherie and Clyde, the latter being the first born son of Tang and Precious, she out of Ginger and Mangal. (I put that lot in for the benefit of the Ancestry people amongst you!).
The Swallowbellies are slightly different in shape and temperament from the Blonde or red Mangalitzas. Physically, they are somewhat longer of back and snout and temperamentally (from our experience of them) they are a little more feisty. Andromeda was marked out for breeding from an early age - for those reasons but also to keep Clyde's bloodline going. He's unfortunately no longer with us - he failed the personality test quite early on so we took the difficult decision to end his presence before he became a problem. One thing we don't need is a problem boar!

The Truffle litter, also being of Clyde's line, was briefly considered early on for breeding but it was only when Truffle returned from School with her excluded mate, Aster, that we noticed what a nice looking young gilt she had turned into. (That's what a good school can do for a Girl!). She's strong, well marked and quite chunky for a Swallowbelly and has eyelashes to die for!
"She'd make a good wife for JD" we said to each other. Andromeda is already JD's No 3 wife after Bonnie (ex. Precious and Tang) and Lotos (ex. Ginger and Mangal) and is expecting their first litter in the first half of August. So yesterday afternoon Truffle left here to go off to the same Livery yard with the Nice Mr Thomas.
She made a bit of a fuss about leaving the safety of the Holding Pen for 'That Strange Trailer' but with a little persuasion realised that 'actually' it was about time for another adventure! She'll be in quarantine again (that's why she was in the Temporary HP here since coming home from school) for three weeks which is a(nother) bore for her but after that she'll be introduced to JD. 
I'm sure they'll get on well with each other but if not it'll be the Nice Mr. T who'll be saying "Auf Wiedersehen Truffle."!

Not everything is green and pleasant

 The fox returned early last week.
Ever since her first visit I've been shutting up the poultry extra early each evening.
On this particular day it had been pouring with rain since dawn so maybe she'd been frustrated in her hunting attempts elsewhere.  The rain eased off by tea time.
I went out to shut up the birds around 7.30pm. The bantams, as ever, had already retired for the night. I herded the ducks into the main hen house, where the chickens had already gone to roost and shut up the ducks and chickens in the doghouse pen next door. All as normal.
Lastly, as usual, I went down to the field pen to shut up the nursery.
It was ominously silent. ....
No birds.
Nothing remained but two piles of golden Buff feathers.
Bloody fox.
I cursed and screamed at the pigs. Fat lot of good that did.
Then I realised why one of the ducks in the main hen house was making so much noise. She was the mother of the ducklings. She'd presumably managed to fly away. Sadly she continued looking for her family for the next two days, quacking loudly as she waddled through all the pig pens and surrounding areas.
On the third day Gunner brought her remains to me.
The fox got her too - or it could have been a polecat judging from the carcase.
Not everything in the countryside is green and pleasant.

Anybody out there?

 I am told that the RSPCA recommend an area of 36sq.m. per outdoor pig and, thinking about it, that's probably the average size of an old fashioned sty. We run a Pig Custodian scheme. People who love pigs and wish to 'own' them can take them from us as weaners, look after them as their own and, when we all agree the time is right for them to go to the big sty in the sky, we go and collect them. In exchange, the Custodians receive a 'provisions credit' to the value of the feed costs attributed to the pigs during the intervening months.

One of the questions always asked is "How big does the pen need to be?" There is no fixed size. Large enough for the little chaps to run around and rootle in with room for a shelter and some shade.  But after that it depends very much on the Custodians' circumstances and constraints.

Yesterday we delivered two of Mangal and Ginger's Little Deserts to their new home in the North of the County. It was a very blustery, damp day but that didn't tarnish the anticipation with which they were awaited. As is our wont with little weaners, we transported them in a dog cage in the back of the 4x4 so on arrival we drove through the gates and directly up to the new pen.

Which is palatial!  

"It's as well to get used to holding them from the start" said The Boss and duly gave instructions as to how that was most effectively achieved. Following which their new 'family' unloaded them without too much bother (!!!) and put them out in their new home ....and off they ran.... and ran....and ran. Since they were unloaded one at a time, they ran in different directions ---- and it took a minute or two before they found each other again. Then they ran and ran and ran along the fencing - "Are we nearly there?" you could almost hear them grunting!
We left them exploring whilst we all went indoors to do the paperwork over a cup of tea.......
"If you are thinking up names for them they're from the litter named after Deserts." explained the boss at one point. "Yes. Yes. We thought we'd call them Spamalot and Dorothy Porkins" said their new Boss. We were taken aback - slightly. But the new Boss was adamant. Turns out they're characters from a story which he used to read to his son when he was just a piglet! And Spamalot had other connotations which also made them smile!
So... Spamalot and Dorothy Perkins it is.
And before we left we went to have another look at them;  they were still trotting along the perimeter fence. Having been confined in the stalls since weaning it's little wonder the wide outdoors seemed so very wide. And not another piglet in sight. In fact not another anything in sight. Just not anybody out there.
It'll take a bit of getting used to. But they'll be alright. Though they can't see them, there are chickens a little way off and there are sheep to come at some stage and maybe some horses later so their 'outside world' will not be empty for too long......

Post natal blues

With animals you always have to expect the unexpected!
Nine days after her piglets had been born Aster gave us all a bit of a scare. She had an upset tum and retched up some bile a few times. She stopped eating! Not a mouthful passed her lips for more than 36 hours. By Wednesday evening we were worried. She just slept; stirring to suckle Barbie (yes! definitely two girls and a boy!), Joan and Lawrence but otherwise just lying there. Occasionally she'd get up, look in her bowl and then just walk off and go back to sleep. At shutting up time on Wednesday night I made a small bowl of gruel and she nibbled a handful before going back to sleep.

The piglets continued to behave as normal; sleeping, playing, trying to wake mum up!!!
Everything was just too much though.
Thursday morning before going off to market I mixed up another small bowl of gruel and stayed with her whilst she ate a little of it. In the afternoon we rang the vet. Who listened attentively and made some suggestions. Said to ring him next morning if she hadn't perked up.
Well -- that did it.
Thursday evening she ate up all the gruel.
Friday morning she ate up all the gruel at first breakfast. And second breakfast.
"There's nothing wrong with her" reported Linda later.... "Just a typical teenager wanting to sleep all day!"
"It was the mention of getting the vet out" said The Boss. "That made her better!".
Whatever it was, she is now fully back to normal and happily getting on with "Life with Piglets in the Barn."
Thinking of it, though, she did have a lot of upheaval in a short space of time - sent home from school, separated from her mate, no children to pet and play with her, the whole 'searching for a nest' disruption, an invasion of piglings,  constant demands for attention (and she hadn't had long enough at school to get to the lesson about the birds and the bees so how confusing was that?), changes in diet and lifestyle and - the most impossible bit to handle - absolutely no me-time anymore....... What's a girl to do but shut down for a few days?
A clearer case of post piglet blues would be hard to find.....

8 days later

 Aster's first 8 days of motherhood have largely been spent as you see above. She's the first of our sows to farrow indoors and it has been a learning curve for us as much as Aster. She's got quite used to us popping in to watch or have a few words and rather likes to have her back or ears scratched.  Most of the time the family spend asleep, either with the piglets lying nose to tail between Mum's snout and the wall or tucked up in or under a nest of straw. They suckle frequently, briefly and - with no need to argue about, or fight over, which teat to use - very quietly. They are altogether very quiet ,  perhaps because there are so few of them or maybe it is the result of being away from the rest of the herd. Will this continue or will they grow to be as rumbustious as all our other piglets I wonder?

In the last few days they have begun investigating their world and venture further and longer away from Mum. The quietest grunt from her though and they scamper quickly back. They've already discovered a place where they can crawl under the hurdles and get away from mum so I imagine in a couple of  weeks they'll be exploring the rest of the barn. That'll be fun. In the meantime they have been named.
"I'd like to call the little girl Joan after my friend who passed away today" said Linda reflectively last Thursday. "She'd be amused to have a pig named after her!"
"We'll have to name one of the boys Darby then!" said The Boss "And the other one can be Lawrence after the school" I added.
Trouble is we're not sure if it's 2 girls and 1 boy or the other way round so Darby could well turn out to be Darbie ...... time will tell.....

Honour satisfied

 It was a grand day for a competition. The dog knew something was up when I packed the shooting bag with essentials for the day - spare lead, water, chewstick treats...... Keenly jumped in the car and off we went. The hosts laid on bacon rolls and tea for breakfast. There was a general air of nervousness about the place. One or two of our team members were verging on panic and went off to "have a heart to heart" with their canine companions.
Our opponents arrived. "Oh No" the dog and I both thought when we saw him. "They've called in Real Professionals". For there he was - Rory the Trainer. No pressure then. During the briefing we were reminded that this was a Fun Day and 'serious competitive behaviour' would be frowned on! Worse still, He-the-Trainer was on the Gundog team that our spaniel team were paired against. So he'd be able to witness our every move.  That would be fun. We did have one Labrador on our team, Troy, who was handled by a junior champion but the others were all Cockers.

 There were four sets of tests, each involving two retrieves marked out of 10 and team members ran alternately - ie One of them followed by one of us. The first test was a marked retrieve followed by a blind retrieve. Scenting conditions were very poor. Gunner easily picked the first (10 points) but deviated towards the gun for the second - which, in fact, was in the same place as the first. Given corrective instructions he was straight on it (7 /10). The second test consisted of three hidden dummies; a shot was fired and the dog had to be sent to 'find' first one and then a second. The dog lost one point on the first but scored 10 on the second. Third test was a dummy into the pond and then a dummy thrown to an accompanying shot beyond the pond. With one exception, all the dogs 'saw' the second dummy fall in the reeds at the edge of the pond.  It was made more difficult because once the dog rounded the side of the pond he was out of sight to the handler. Gunner scored 10 on the water retrieve but took a while to be handled out of the reeds and back round the corner to be sent back for the second - 5/10. "Honest, persistant dog" commented the judge. The final test was two marked retrieves - in each case a dummy thrown to an accompanying gun shot. The BGiatW scored a full house for those. "Nothing wrong with the Dog" commented the judge. Rory-the-trainer was complimentary in his own way as he explained to those about him that this was the dog that he didn't think "would amount to much" when he first saw him and who had proved him wrong ever since! High praise indeed. (He and his labrador scored a total of 74/80 so we were not far behind him!!! Well done the Dog!!!)

So although our team came last, Gunner came home with a certificate for the best dog (71/80) in a non-winning team! Not bad for his first competitive attempt. The handler came home with a prize too (a bottle of wine)! After lunch - generously provided by our hosts - a dummy throwing competition was staged whilst the scores were added up. Competitors had to throw 5 dummies into a dustbin from a marked distance - and yours truly scored 4/5 and won! "I'll expect the same accuracy tomorrow!" remarked our Shooting Instructor - he who had roped us into this competition in the first place!
Honour was satisfied all round....

Testing times

"Your dog any good at retrieving?" asked the Shooting Instructor a month back.
"Does everything he's asked" I replied.
"We've a friendly competition against the United Lincolnshire Gundog Club in a month or so. We're short of spaniels. Want to come along?" (Who said Mug?)
So, tomorrow is the day and we're off to help fly the flag for spaniels. The ULGC is all labradors. So the fighting spirit is roused. WE all know a spaniel is worth 10 Labs any day (On the other hand, Labador people will tell you that a Labrador is born half trained whereas a spaniel dies half trained.....). Of course we'll win then.
So we had a bit of a practice this afternoon.
Maybe we won't win.
Some of our team mates are a little keen.... on doing their own thing..... "Retrieve? Out of season you know" I think a few of the Cockers were saying. "WATER! GREAT! No. Definitely nothing on land. All in water!" as they ignored the bank dummies and headed straight for water...... Had to avert The Bestest Gundog's eyes. Can't have him learning their faults!
He was a star. I've fed him speed bubbles for dinner - that'll make him a shooting star then?

...a Crowd

Here's proud mum at mid-day resting with her own little crowd........ 

Asteroid in search of a nest

 "There's a pig outside the window!" exclaimed The Boss after lunch. I'd just finished bottling up Loganberry Jam and was en route to whipping the cream for the frozen gooseberry fool; my mind was fully occupied with such mundane kitchen matters - and The Bestest Gundog in all The World whom I'd had to leave at the Vet's just before lunch for what turned out to be extraction of grass seeds from his two front paws - so I was totally nonplussed by his words. More precisely, they just didn't register!!
"There's a pig outside the kitchen window!" he repeated, getting to his feet - definitely a sign of something serious. So I switched my focus and sure enough looking up at me from the other side of the window was our very pregnant little Asteroid. I hastened after The Boss who, ignoring the pig, was moving speedily towards the barn to find out how and where she had managed to get out. Very logical but not my first thought........ For a while I watched the pig who mooched here and there as if looking for something.

 Ignoring my attempts to cajole her where I wanted her to go, she trotted off in the direction of her mate Truffle - snout down, intent and preoccupied. I joined The Boss who was securing the pen in the barn. Then we tried to round up our wanderer. To no avail. She was too quick and too focused on her concerns to pander to our wishes. Time to call in reinforcements!
Luckily Tony was home and responded to my plea for help with a prompt: "I'm already on my way." It took him only ten minutes but in that time Aster had trotted around the yard, into the orchard, round the chickens' pen in the field, along the bank, inspected Rocco's old stable and then back up to Ginger and Mangal - perhaps thinking they would have the answers she sought.
Good choice for her. Better choice for us because it's a relatively easily enclosed area and we were able to funnel her into the trailer which Tony had deftly backed up as close as possible.  She eagerly stuck her snout in all the fresh straw:
"That's what she was looking for" said The Boss "More nesting material!".
Tony then drove her back round to the barn and, after such Big Adventures, she was visibly relieved to be home. At least she trotted determinedly off the trailer as if pleased to be back where she started!
"Better give her lots more bedding" advised The Boss.
A sack of shavings and another bale of straw went in. She had a good snout around and then went in search of water.

After much cooling and wallowing she had a bit of a lie-down - just to regroup her thoughts I suppose. Then she set about the serious business of nesting.
"Let's leave her to it and go and have a cooling drink." I suggested. And off we went.
At tea time, an hour or so later, she was still doing the housework.
I checked again at 6 o'clock and still nothing.
But by the time I went to shut up the nursery chicks unmistakeable sounds of piglets suckling and mum gruntling were coming from the barn. Quiet as I could I crept closer. However, clever young Aster had built such a deep nest I could see only the top of her back. After several minutes I'd seen two piglets pop up for air or a top level teat .... how many, if any, others there are, I have no way of knowing. With her being a young first time mother there was no way I wanted to startle her in any way. We'll all just have to be patient.

Welcome noise

 The stable barn is resounding again with the sound of swallows frantically feeding their young. This time the nest looks secure and is in the centre of the roof above Ritz's stable door. Earlier this week, whilst eating dinner one evening, The Boss and I were entertained by another family of swallows swooping and swirling above and about the lawn outside the kitchen window. Clearly the adults were teaching their young the rudiments of maneouvring and fly-catching around natural hazards like trees and buildings. The constant chirruping and balletic antics of these birds surely encapsulate all that is joyous about a warm summers' day?

Meanwhile, out in the Poultry nursery the four bantam chicks have doubled in size, the solitary duckling and his mum have been totally accepted into their little flock (where another of the bantams is now busily 'sitting' on a nest of eggs) and out in the Buff's pen the mother hen and duck are still proudly parenting their little brood of one chick and three ducklings. Luckily the latter are all pale yellow so neither Hen nor Duck notice any difference or, if they do, it matters not to them. Every morning when I open their little house the welcome noise as they all tumble out together brings a smile to my face.