Our First Shoot ends

It all started when She was walking the three of us (Lancer, Pilot & and baby me) round the fields one morning. A car pulled up and a man shouted out: "You pick up with your dogs?" As soon as I was old enough I was off to school to learn a few lessons.That man in the car, we learned, was our local Gamekeeper and we saw him from time to time whilst I was at school. "Come and join us at the beginning of the Season if you're interested" he said one day. Being a complete novice, She didn't know what She was letting us in for but when I was 18 months old we turned up to join the Shoot. I'd never seen so many dogs and people, never heard so much shouting and banging. It was all jolly exciting with lots of smells and loads more chances to hunt than I'd ever had before. Neither of us knew anything about this world. People behaving strangely with sticks and guns; birds, rabbits and hares going everywhere. We soon learned though. The people all told her what to do and she told me what to do - it was  system that worked well. Some of the other dogs were bent on trying to get me to do things their way but I didn't pay any attention and quickly learned to keep myself to myself. If they tried to argue with me or pinch something from me I just looked the other way. "Philosophical" some of the people called me. Really it was just that I learned to save all my energy when it wasn't needed for when it was needed. I didn't realise in the beginning that what She called "work" would go on for so long. More than any walks or training or exercise that I'd done till then. At first we always worked with the same people in the same place.  There was always a lot of laughing and shouting and whistling and dogs running everywhere. Then we got to go to lots of other places and do the same thing with lots of other people and dogs. Most of them were far quieter than on the First Shoot. But I enjoyed our First Shoot best: there was always lots to do and often I got really, really tired - so tired when I was younger that often I couldn't sleep nights - but I learned to find all sorts of things in all sorts of ground and most of all I learned to always do what I'd been taught. I even lost my tail because of the thick thorns on that First Shoot but life was a lot easier when it was gone. Four seasons have now passed and, apart from all the good things, I'm afraid I also learned a few bad ones from the other dogs. She says She's going to teach me to forget those this long holiday - don't know if I can though cos once I've learned something  I never forget it. Anyway, I've grown up a lot since that first day. I've learned that we work jolly hard for a long time and then we have an even longer holiday when I don't have to worry or have any aches and pains or thorns in all the wrong places. I've learned that just when I think the holiday will never end we're back to work again. I've grown up I suppose and this season for the first time I told one of the bossy labradors to go away and leave Us alone.... and he did! She was as surprised as I was.

But now, if I understand what She and The Boss and the Keeper man were saying the other day, we're not going to be doing any more work at our First Shoot because it's finished for good. We've still got other work to do but She says we'll have to find some other places to fill our time -  after all we're used to going to work 2 or 3 or 4 days a week not 2 or 3 days a fortnight. It won't be the same though without all the chaps we've got to know over the past 4 years - they were what she calls a loud and boisterous lot but we had a lot of fun together. The end of our First Shoot is what She calls the end of an Era - I don't know what that is but it sounds pretty final to me.

Still, we hunters know that you have to keep going forward .... there's no sense in looking back. Our First Shoot may have ended but it's not our last, not by a long way. She's taking me to summer school to sharpen me up for next season so who knows what that will bring.......... bet it'll be exciting though.... as we spaniels say "There's always another bush to explore!"

They're off and out

 Last Wednesday, exactly 3 weeks from the day they were born, Precious' latest litter - the Haggi - were out and about.
"They've even been up visiting with Mangal & Ginger" Linda reported the next day.
Precious had been preparing for the event for quite some time. Her pen is one of the most recent to have been constructed and the foundations round the fence line were really quite solid. Then she got to work. Rootle, rootle, rootle and next thing you know there are channels all over the show - mostly leading directly under the fence. Just what the little ones needed to aid their explorations.
They didn't mean to leave Mum just "Whooops"
and suddenly there they are on the other side.
Since then they have extended the length and duration of their little excursions and we are not

 surprised to see them anywhere and everywhere. The Bestest Gundog is, of course, back on duty. Here he is explaining to the Chief of the Haggi that on this side of the fence he (Gunner) calls the shots. There was a bit of a standoff for a few moments but wise piglet soon backed down and ran back to his mates. Whenever I'm doing anything about the yard, and most particularly at feed times, Gunner places himself in a strategic position where he can monitor the activities of the squiglets. If they get too far away or too far in the wrong direction he quickly rounds them up again and brings them back close to Precious. I don't think she gives a damn, but he clearly feels she should!

 

Within just a couple of days of being out in the Big Wide World the piglets realise that there is more to life than mothers milk. For a little while Precious is content to let them share her bowl but, once they've got the hang of it (within another day or two) she thinks nothing of tossing them out of the way to find their own provisions. At that stage we give them their own bowl - which, naturally, Precious tries to empty too - and then we gradually start feeding them outside the pen. The next step is to move the feed station further and further away from Mum so that by the time it comes to weaning they are happily eating wherever we want them to be. Mum, equally, gets used to her little ones being away for increasing periods of time so when the piglets are eventually weaned it is far less stressful for her. So much so that with the last two or three litters we have weaned I'll bet the sows didn't realise for a good 24 hours that the kiddiwinks weren't ever coming home again.And by then they'd had a good night's sleep on their own with no little demanding mouths to feed. "Hey Presto" they probably think - or the pig equivalent of that - "What a relief to be shot of that lot at last".
Two or three days later they're back to the boar and piglets are but a distant memory.......
.... till the next lot!

Skid Pan Alley

 A delivery truck arrived early yesterday morning and dropped off some wine. That was the good news.

The bad news?  He then got stuck. Tried to dig himself out but an hour later he was still stuck. Eventually his boss agreed that he should ring RAC Rescue. An hour later, the rescue truck arrived. Another hour - delivery truck left. But now the rescue truck was stuck. It took him another hour to get away. Net result of all that manoeuvring is that our driveway, bad enough in any snowy conditions due to its incline, is now solid ice. So much so that we've roped off the top end by the road and hung a notice warning anybody to 'proceed at their peril'! How we are going to get up the drive is a problem for another day; we exhausted our rock salt supplies trying to get Willie the veggie truck up the track on Wednesday! He's now well stuck till the thaw.

 Holbeach in Lincolnshire was the coldest place in England last night recording -16C: nonetheless we remain optimistic that the Siberian snap will soon pass!
Oblivious to our little worries, the Hagi were out yesterday sucking snow in the late afternoon sunshine. Precious has been busy modifying the pen in anticipation of her little ones going further afield: large holes are being dug around the perimeter fence. Naturally she would  claim to be just aimlessly rootling but we know different! They'll be 3 weeks old next Wednesday and that's the magic age for piglets to go a-wandering........
Gunner'll have his paws full then - with any luck! He needs something to occupy his mind....  he knows
that hares hide under the snow so he's spent the

best part of the past week -the exercise part - loping across the snow fields hunting for them - to no avail. Not a hare anywhere. Where are they all? is the question. Sometimes he hunts and sometimes he just stands and looks..... and looks... and probably thinks      But he's like that. Thinks a lot... looks away into the sunset and wonders what tomorow will bring......

There goes another one.....

It's 8 days since the end of our 4th Shooting Season and The Bestest Gundog and I were doing a little reminiscing by the fireside yesterday evening.
"Right Gunner" I said to him "you've been sleeping for a week now so you'll have sussed that that's it for another season. How d'you feel?"
"Yeh, well I was a bit tired and achey before my big sleep and my paws were sore and my tummy was always empty" he said laconically "but now I wouldn't mind a day out with all our pals again- well, not those black chaps (labs to you and me) but the other spaniels and all those nice men with their too-big lunch boxes." (He's developed a penchant for pies and cakes!)

"Remember how excited you were when we started back in September?"
"Yeh;I could hardly sit still my tail was wagging so much; I thought we'd have to wait forever before you told me 'go seek' on the first drive. And then I went like the wind and it was so warm and I ran out of puff and you got that fretty look on your face." Unbeknownst to The Dog I'd consulted the vet and Dorwest Herbs for a remedy. I'd thought he was a fit dog but when, half way through the day, for several days,  he was gasping for breath I was seriously worried. However, the weather was unseasonably mild for shooting - more like early summer than autumn and we beaters were going around in shirt sleeves; small wonder The Dog was overheating. "Lucky we found that tasty supplement to put in your dinner" I told him "that soon upped your stamina levels didn't it? After a couple of weeks you were well away and before much longer lots of people remarked how much energy you had." "Well, I love my work and I just wanna sniff everywhere and everything and when the birds shoot up in the air or the babbits flash away I get soooo excited my head goes all dizzy!"

"Hmmm, maybe that's why sometimes you don't respond to the whistle?"
"Me? Not respond? But I'm The Bestest Gundog; isn't that what you always tell me - and anyone else who's listening. Anyway, I listen as much as I can but I know the ropes now and I hear what everyone's doing and I know all the other 'words'"
"Which 'other' words?"
"Well, there's  radio crackling which means 'we're off' long before you tell me and I do try and be patient but sometimes you're so slow; and there's 'big bang' which means bird dropped and 'bang,bang' which means two birds dropped so I'd better fetch one cos you might not have noticed and you're always so happy when I bring you something - and there's the funny trumpet which means time to stop again."
 "I'm glad you mentioned the 'bang bang' because we need to come to a different understanding on that" - you should have seen the look he gave me. "Well you are never to fetch anything unless I tell you to and certainly not if you're hunting at the time. It's very bad manners you know We're going to have to have

a new rule on that before next season". At which he gave me an even queerer look.
"But I know my job and when all the banging's stopped you often tell me to 'go find' - it's much easier to collect them as we go along - saves time you know." He has a point, but it's not his job and the other chaps, canine and human, get jolly annoyed when he does their work for them - and I go pretty puce myself. Not that The Dog ever notices that cos he's away on a mission....
"It's my most favourite thing too" he mused "especially when I find a hare or things that are lost - and I do find everything when you send me off."
He's right, I always say to my colleages that "if it's there he'll find it" and he never lets me down.
"And those black chaps are a bit prissy you know; how often do you see them charging through the brambles or the gloopy stuff or really looking under bracken?" He's right again. If you want to look good, you take a labrador; if you want to work good, you have to take a spaniel.  "It's not always easy going is it lad? Those fierce brambles and then those boggy woods full of fallen trees and briars where people often can't go and you have to hunt on you own. Sometimes even I'm amazed that you don't just look and say 'no thanks not today' - some days you were so filthy - green and black and bloody all over - you were almost unrecognisable."

"Yeh, Good isn't it. The thicker and heavier the going the better I like it and you'd be amazed just where those birds hide, 'specially if they're a little hurt. Remember that one I pulled out of the tree?"
 "I certainly do. It was in a hole in the trunk underground and surrounded by thick brambles - lots of reasons not to 'find' to a lesser hunter."
He was so proud when he struggled out with it and presented it to me. Such a clever dog.
It's an amazing life that a working spaniel has during the season. We humans might walk 5 to 8 miles across and over all kinds of terrain but our canine companions must cover four or five times that distance, to-ing and fro-ing and criss-crossing

stubble, plough, bog, thick bramble, heavy briar, bracken and dead, detritus-covered trees - mostly at full speed through every weather. These periods of 'hunting' - each for anything up to, say, 40 minutes, are interspersed with periods of sitting and waiting - maybe up to 20 or 30 minutes - without movement or sound, again - in any weather. They could be soaked through and yet have to sit still, shivering and waiting for the next drive. Many people on the shoot, who don't have dogs, take for granted that they will work soundlessly and energetically all day. That day could be 6 to 8 hours. Each dog in the shooting field has a role to play. The 'peg' dog must sit silently by his gun during the shooting and only retrieve when bidden. Many will only be asked to fetch the closest birds, the furthermost being collected by the Picker-up dogs.

These usually work in teams of 2, 3, 4 or more; they'll wait far back from the guns and then be expected, at the end of the drive, to sweep the territory far and wide in search of fallen birds. They may be sent off to fetch a particular bird during a drive if it is a 'runner' (ie: hit and wounded but far from deat) that could get lost if left till the end. Many picker-up dogs are, or would be, totally uncontrollable if asked to join in with the bush-beaters. These are the Jacks-of-all-trades and a good bushbeating dog is worth his weight in gold. He is expected to hunt every kind of terrain, to stay close to the humans and not charge through the drive (though many do - thus scaring off each and every bird en route), to 'find' and flush (not catch or 'peg') game, not to run in to shot (ie: go fetch shot birds during the drive) despite knowing they may have to help find them at the end of the drive; to walk to heel when asked and to range far and wide when requested; to ignore dead game when told and to fetch runners when sent. Defintely the most difficult and confusing task of any dog in the shooting field.. "Even you get confused sometimes, don't you Gunner?"
"Well, one does try to please but sometimes it all gets too much and when a chap's out 3 or 4 days a week for 4 or 5 months adrenaline takes over. Mostly I just want to get the job done - and some of the other chaps do things all the time that you tell me I should never do and - when you're not about - they ask me why I listen to you and don't just do my own thing and when I say 'that's the way I've been brought up' they just scoff and say 'so?'." "Remember that day" he said "when I jumped that big hare and was just about to bring it to you and that big lab came over and grabbed it from my mouth and then the other lab came over and tried to grab it from him? I was really upset.I'd never ever do that to any dog, lab or otherwise". I remembered the occasion well. After the labs had sorted out which one was going to claim the prize, Gunner went back to the spot to see if they'd really taken his hare. It really is the rudest thing one dog can do to another in the field and yet it happens quite often - with all game, not just unusual catches like hares.
"It's been a tough season hasn't it my boy" I said to him "It's a good thing you've developed the art of switching off between drives". "
"Yeh, that's my life-saver" he admitted.
It makes us humans smile. As soon as we all get back on the beater's wagon Gunner will stand at the front end, shut his eyes and go to sleep. As soon as the wagon stops, he jerks awake and is ready for the off. It's just like a computer on stand-by ... if you leave it doing nothing for a few minutes it goes to sleep, but touch it and instantly it wakes up and is ready to go again. That's Gunner's secret weapon; I'm certain his knack of conserving energy whenever he can is what keeps him going. A similar thing happens at the end of the day: as soon as he knows the last drive is over, and he does always  know, he acts as if completely drained. It's as much as he can do to climb down off the beater's wagon and crawl to the car. I put his fleece on and he curls up on the back seat and falls asleep; staggers from the garage to the house when we get home, eats and then goes to sleep till the next day. Dead as a dodo. Evening walks? Forget it. Morning feed-round? Forget it. Time for work? Here I am, ready and willing....
"You've done 46 days' this season - more than in any previous year - and you've not had a single day off sick or injured, which is a first as well."
"P'raps I can be excused for going AWOL occasionally then - after all, I'm still The Bestest Gundog and I did get invited to beat on that shoot that wouldn't ask any other dogs didn't I?" Which he did.  He may not be perfect but he's still the best-behaved spaniel in the district and gets invited to go where others would never be welcome.
"Don't let it go to your head, young man - there's plenty of improvement to work on before next season if you're going to maintain your reputation......"   
"Yawwwwn, pawwwring,... I can see where you're going with this......I'll just wait and look forward to September....... it's been nice chewing things over with you but it's time to go back to dreamland now.......Night, night". He's such a Clever Dog.



Siberian weekend

 "You'll not hang about there, will you?" said The Boss when I rang him from the market place yesterday morning to report on progress. "The snow's going to come late afternoon and you want to be home before then".

Much as I appreciated the concern there was no way I was going to hang around a minute longer than necessary. It had been -8 when I left home at dawn and despite the bright sun it felt little warmer by mid-morning and a great deal colder when the wind got up around mid-day. No amount of layering prevents the cold eventually permeating through to the marrow when movement is limited to the space behind and around the market stall. As the church clock struck 1.30pm we all decided to strike camp and head for home.   The first flakes fell at 4.20, by which the wind was ferociously cold and gusty. It didn't let up and by the time the dogs and I went to check round the animals before bed it was magically white everywhere. And very, very, very cold. I checked on Ginger & Mangal and they were huddled closely together to keep warm. I'll bet the picture was the same in all the other arks!

There were icicles on the window when I went to bed.

This morning didn't look too magical either.... freezing fog managed to make the world look pretty unfriendly. Funnily enough, none of the pigs were worried about the lateness of their breakfast - and having eaten it, they all retreated to the warmth of their arks to carry on sleeping and dreaming .... or whatever pigs do when their eyes are shut.  The Bestest Gundog was happy: he knows hares hide under snow so he spent a very pleasant hour or two  rushing around the stubble and hedgerows  looking for them. To no avail although he did manage to find a mixy rabbit. No Brownie points in that though.  The fog's stayed with us all day so perhaps that'll keep temperatures up overnight and things will look a little brighter tomorrow. Thank you Siberia for sending the snow but we'd like to return to normal now.