A subtle progression?

It started with a visit to the birdtable, moved to sleeping in the Poultry Palace and progressed to the outside Pump House. Snow came but the stranger stayed outside. Gradually though it ventured indoors for short spells. Then, as suddenly as it arrrived it disappeared.
"Gone!" we thought. Didn't dare miss it; it hadn't been here long enough for that. Then one evening it was back.
And stayed. Came indoors more frequently and gradually moved from scullery to kitchen to snug to... spare bedroom. Probably thought that since nobody else slept there she might as well.
As a precaution we took her to the vet. Found out that she would soon have had kittens. Little rascal. That's why she was behaving strangely before she left for a few days.  Found herself a comfy home then sneaked off to find her mate! Not stupid then.
Pilot and Gunner accepted her without question. She probably told them to. Wasn't long before she was telling us what she wanted. Couldn't call her quiet cat by any stretch. Soon she was not only coming for walks with the dogs in the morning - scared me sometimes thinking we might lose her in the long grass or the wheatfields (she knows her way around though) - but doing the evening rounds with us too whilst impatiently demanding that we hurry up and go up the road for our last-thing walk! When the first mouse was brought in we thought it charming.... now it's a matter of: "Now what's she got?" and I haven't caught as many in the house in the previous 11 years as I have in the one since she arrived.
A year on I realise that quite a few little routines and habits now revolve around her: We leave the porch window open all the time so she can come and go (will that change when it gets really cold I wonder?): I feed her breakfast while making morning tea (none of the others get that): I look for her now when doing the morning feeds (I'd never find Puddy Cat attending to the daily chores!) and talk to her during evening stables: our nightly walk up the drive is punctuated by Words with Waifa; before bed I check if she's with the dogs or on 'her' bed upstairs. We know when her Miaow means "Out" or "In", "Food" or just "Hello"; she's not a cat to pick up and cuddle but she purrs like a lioness, demonstrating how much she appreciates contact with other creatures - human or canine.... and she seems determined that she's here to stay.
Puddy Cat might agree to differ but the skinny, shy creature that arrived last November has made a subtle progression into a place which would be empty and sad without her.

In Cahoots....

 Delila's last litter of piglets was born on 16th March. It was the evening Clarissa Dickson-Wright was featured on The Great British Food Revival talking about the revival of rare breed pigs and associated pork dishes.
At precisely the time the programme was being aired and Clarissa was saying "My Delila, what a magnificent pig you are!" said MP lay down and gave birth to 10 bouncing piglets. We named them all Clarence or Clarissa in her honour and very nice pigs they've turned out to be too.
Some 6 months later Delila's turn to farrow came round again. Over the past 3 years an order has been established: Precious, then Delila, then Ginger. Thus, Precious farrowed on 2 August, Delila should have farrowed in the latter half of September and Ginger obligingly delivered her litter on 2 November.

"She probably just missed a cycle" we said of Delila when she'd still not farrowed by the beginning of October. "She probably missed a couple of cycles" we said when nothing changed by the end of October!
"Fancy Ginger farrowing before Delila" we said a week later.
"Have you checked Delila lately?" The Boss said to Linda a few days later.
And a few days later again: "You're sure she is in pig?"
"Nothing's changed" Linda kept saying. And then: "I think it looks like her bag's dropping" said The Boss after he'd done breakfast duty a couple of weeks ago. But still  nothing. "You'd better have stern words with Delila" The Boss said to Linda one day last week. We all agreed she must be  in pig because she was definitely very round. "Or Fat" said Linda. Secretly we were cutting back her hard feed ration just in case it was  just fat! When subtle changes - dropping of the bulk in her tummy, slight enlarging of her bag - did happen I think we all thought we might just be willing them to happen.
Last Friday evening a repeat of Clarissa's episode of  The Great British Food Revival was aired on TV.
At breakfast on Saturday I remarked to myself that Delila was definitely changing shape and meant to say to The Boss that we'd probably have piglets on Monday - Linda's day off. But The Bestest Gundog and I were off beating and I was in a bit of a hurry so I forgot.
The text came through when we were on the Beater Bus after lunch: "Delila's had her piglets!"
I admit I leapt in the air with joy - and not a little relief. I got a few funny looks but that's part and parcel of bush-beating! And then it occurred to me. Once is a coincidence but twice?
Question: (a) How did Delila know that CDW was going to be on TV again? and (b) How did she know which night it would be?
Admittedly, when CDW called Delila's name, said magnificent Sow snapped her head up and locked on to Clarissa like a magnet. Was something deeper going on? A meeting of souls? A sudden inextricable telepathic bond. Clearly they are in cahoots ---- but how?

All in a days work

"I started writing this for Her last week cos She told me we had some busy weeks ahead. I thought a few minutes each day might turn into a picture of what we do at work. Tuesday was a typical working day: up early to feed all the other 4 leggeds and the chickens and ducks too. Then off in the little red car to the village to meet all my mates. Except my favourite, Amy - a black labrador - wasn't there again. But I soon didn't miss her because after what seemed ages we were off. She Who Must be Obeyed walks slowly and whistles a lot and I run helter skelter everywhere looking for the pesky birds. Sometimes they're slow or get tangled in the bushes and I catch them before they fly and SWMbO gets growly with me. Can't work out why. Thought my job was to find birds and bring them to her. We wait around a lot too in between.It's difficult to sit still when there are so many exciting smells in the air.She doesn't seem to notice them though.  And there's lots of banging; sometimes a bang makes a bird fall out of the sky and I think it's part of my job to rush off and get it as quickly as possible, but she gets really whistley if I do that and often shakes me; but if I don't get them when they fall she tells me to go and find them later. I'm still trying to work that out. We do this all day long; lots of running and lots of waiting; and at the end I'm whacked. But not so much that I can't get up for dinner.

 The second working day of the week started like the first: guarding  squiglets whilst SWMbO fed all the others. Then it was off in the red car again .
When we got out we were at a different place from the day before. Not one we go to so often - big gaps in between.Not so many dogs and the people are different too although I recognise one or two familiar smells from the other place.
I like this place; it seems quieter and less frenetic and she lets me get on with my work in peace. Although on Wednesday she did growl at me and shout once when I went to fetch a bird from the field after a big bang.
I had to leave it and go back later and that confused me and I couldn't find it at first  but after a while I understood what her arms were saying and I found it.
There are lots of big birds at this place; here she

 took a picture of what she called swans who kept flying overhead, though by the time she got her clicker thing out the swans were almost too far away to see; but you can just make out the two black dots in the very bleak sky.
It was a very warm day again and I had a lot of running around to do, what with finding birds in the undergrowth and then collecting the ones the bangs made fall. Then there were others that she said I had to find though she didn't know if they were there; they're the best ones cos she's always very pleased when we find them. There was one of those long beaked birds too that I found in the sugar beet so even the big man with the banger seemed pleased.

 Just when we though it was tiring end of day time the boss decided we had to run through another wood - here I am peering at something which was in there but which she said I mustn't go after yet. By the time we finished it was very bleak and my tummy felt empty and my tongue was dry. When we got back to the litttle red car she put my new coat on - she seemed annoyed though when she saw it had little holes in it which she said had something to do with a mouse ... I was too tired to notice though and just had a nibble of my food that she brings with me and went to sleep all the way home. Where I fell asleep till dinner time'; after which I fell asleep again. The next day we didn't go anywhere but the next two days we worked; once in the very familiar place with all my mates and once in a place we haven't been to since the snow fell and I got a stick thing up my nostril and had to go the nice vet man. It's still very warm for running around all day but I don't get as puffy as I did when we started.
Anyway, she's got that green bag out so we must be off again tomorrow. Happy waggy me.
I'll keep padding my notes and perhaps She'll let me tell you all about it another evening. I find it jolly exciting even though it's all in a day's work.And you might too."

Miserable Monday

"A typical murky November Day" remarked The Boss as we were driving along this afternoon and, looking out the window at the drizzle colouring the countryside a misty grey, Tony and I could only grunt agreement.
It was a suitable backdrop to the deed of the day though. Regular readers will know of our Curly Coat Custodian scheme and today we were fetching Debbie(Harry) and Annie(Lennox) at the end of their custodianship. Looking at the picture of the girls above it's difficult to see them as the young weaners we took to "Pastures New" on 24 April. I said then that I suspected they had landed on their feet! Bellies more like! I don't know if they have been the best loved and most spoiled Curly Coats ever but I'd bet it's a close run thing. That's Annie above having her tummie tickled. "I used to do massage" said the nice Custodian lady "so I've been practising on her" - well, I don't see a pig complaining! And, if further proof were needed of their good living - the curls themselves really give the game away. That's a coat any Curly would be proud to own.

Annie & Debbie were from Precious' New Romantics litter (born on Valentine's Day) and their home for the past 7 months couldn't have suited their name better: at the bottom of a well tended garden filled with delicious fruits and veg. - many of which have graced their bowl (along with a Christmas cake, though I don't believe that fell off one of the trees); designer ark; garden bench alongside, from whence I suspect emanated many a starlight bedtime story; playdogs for company and to serve as breakfast alarms; any many other benefits only Annie & Debbie will ever know about. Truly the luckiest of pigs. One of the most rewarding aspects of the Custodian scheme from our perspective is that our pigs get to lead such varied and interesting lives. Our Custodians tell us that the experience is one they'd not have missed for the world and lessons learned from the pigs will last a lifetime.

Not such a Miserable Monday then.