The Boar with the Biggest Smile

Mangal's been going around all week looking like the Cat that's got the cream.
Why?
Well, as of last Friday, he's got a new wife!
It must have come as quite a surprise to him 'cos all his life he's only known Ginger and they're as settled as Darby and Joan.
I was of the opinion that he was getting a bit long in the tooth for romance and wouldn't take too kindly to a new mate. Boy, was I wrong!

He's 4 years old and mustweigh 250 kilos but when Cherie was introduced to him the years and the weight just dropped away and - after she'd taken a few minutes to check out her surroundings and meet the new neighbours - they were all over each other.
In no time he was proving that he is a boar in the prime of life and far from the sleepy old chap we've grown used to!


We decided to leave them to it!

"Poor old Ginger" Linda exclaimed. But actually, although she did glance in Mangal's direction to see what he was up to, she was soon tucking into her tea without a care in the world. Her next litter is due in November so no doubt she's happy to be back in her own space without The Old Boar telling her what to do all the time.

As for Mangal....

within 24 hours it was clear that Cherie was the boss but he seemed quite happy with that..... in fact, he seemed quite happy with everything......

So ???

"OK you guys - what's going on?
I'm not entirely wet behind the ears you know? I thought we were beginning to see eye to eye yesterday. I've been sitting here keeping an eye on you, you know. I saw Ritz disappearing off into the other field earlier when he thought you were all going to descend on him again like yesterday and nibble his toes. And he's a very tolerant chap most of the time.

Now look around - there's that bunch of brothers over there in the middle of the New Chickens' pen, staring at the world as if they've nothing better to do.

Then there's that other bunch over the other side of the Chicken pen making like they're in some sort of digging contest..... It's not on, you know. You two stand here and look me in the eye and say it's all under control... but what's under control? Not you lot. Certainly not the chickens. Poor things. They're jumping around all over the place - they've never seen chaps like you before - no wonder they're not doing the laying thing. And you know what? I'm the one getting all the flak from Her who Must be Obeyed for jumping in there and running around when all I'm trying to do is keep you in order.
"Not suprised your mum looks the other way when you run off. If a well trained fellow like me can't keep you in order, what chance has a poor old sow got?
"What? Me? Insult your mother. Never.... but she doesn't stand a chance against you lot.
"Hang on though - maybe I've an idea. Perhaps I'll speak to H-w-m-b-O about giving you some whistle education....... That really would be something. Teach you lot to help me with my work and we could all go hunting together..... Wouldn't that just scare the feathers of those pheasants???

Here we go again.....

"So, I'm sitting here thinking to myself :

'Here we go again.... another lot of chaps who just want to wander all over the place.'
"Ever since I was knee-high to a piglet's eye I've been told how to behave and what I can and can't do. Her-who-must-be-obeyed is very strict on a chap minding his P's and Q's.
"Yet with these little guys Mum doesn't seem in the least concerned... just carries on eating as if there was nothing in the world to worry about.

"Come to think of it, she doesn't have to worry - it's not her who has to round them up from the bottom of the field or the top of the yard..... Don't think even Her-Who-must-be-Obeyed realises just how stressful it is keeping them all in order....There must be a better way....."

"So, let's see if I can have a little chat with them... nose to nose... (actually it's a bit too much 'in your face' with so many snouts at once) maybe we can agree a few ground rules.... after all, there's got to be some order around the place. I can't stay here all the time - more important things to do... Can't have this lot thinking they can do as they please, whenever they please ....
Let's see if I can't just get them to stand still and pay attention.....








"That's better."

"Right you guys: Pay attention: Here's how it goes. You don't have to stay with your Mum all the time; I know what it's like to be young - got to have a bit of freedom - stretch your wings...
"What?"
"You don't have wings? (funny - always thought that was how you managed to fly around all over the place so quickly)"
"Stretch your legs then.. (little stubby things need all the stretching they can get - wouldn't be any good at all in a thick patch of brambles)

"But every now and then when I appear you've got to form an orderly line and come back here to your pen - all together - not all going in different directions and trying to fool me. I've learned my lessons. I can count, you know...... and I know left from right and back from front and, if necessary, I can even fish you out of the pond....

"So can we have just a little co-operation..... please ... just so I can get a little peace and quiet and curl up and go to sleep in the sun from time to time....?"

"Just like that little guy over there....."

"Think about it, hey? We'll talk about it again tomorrow...."

The heart of the country..

The much awaited rain mentioned in my last blog might have thrilled the piggies but it did nothing but dampen the hearts of other groups of country folk.

"Fair suicidal!" commented our local gamekeeper when - having bumped into him whilst walking the dogs - I enquired how he was.

Seems the rain coincided with him putting out the young pheasants and had so far prevented him putting out the young partridges ... "...and only 5 weeks to go till the Season starts..." he added grimly before continuing on his way.

The farmers were equally grim. No sooner had they started the harvest than the heavens opened leaving machinery stranded whilst crops grew dank and grey. In some cases, the grain became so damp that it started to sprout green shoots..... On our visit to Gavin and Stacey we saw wheat standing in water - "Like rice in a paddy field" commented The Big Boss.

And then there was the Local MFH who, when I enquired about Hounds last week said he'd had them fit and ready to go three weeks earlier but the rain had scuppered his plans to start Autumn Hunting. "We've got to wait for the crops to be in" he said, adding that he'd be out as soon as he had the smallest bit of Country for them to hunt.

Well, it all came good again 10 days ago. High pressure came to stay; the winds blew and suddenly machinery was all over the fields like flies on dung....... from late morning till well into the night their drivers hardly drew breath. Wherever one went, the heart of the country was beating with the rhythm of an Elite Performer: pounding relentlessly until not a single shoot remained standing.

And today the rain has returned.: but most of the farmers are laughing.

Harvest is done: yields have proved exceptionally high: disasters across the globe mean prices are nicely up (for the farmers, that is) and there's just the remainder of the ploughing, drilling and hedging to be done before the tractors and trailers, harvesters and other paraphenalia can be put away till next year. Even the MFH got his way. The weekend after our chat I happened to drive past the Kennels in the early morning mist and saw the yard full of trailers and lorries - a sure sign that Autumn Hunting had begun..... and with it the slow slide into Autumn.............................. Season of mists...................... and long-awaited winter activities......

So? What's new?

Well - for a start, there's these 4 ducklings.

A number of broods were hatched since spring but, for whatever reason, only this bunch have made it through the difficult early stage - mainly, I think, because I managed to isolate them (with their mum) from the main flock and, even bigger danger for little ducklings, the pond. But they're big guys now - almost indistinguishable from their mother - so they'll be joining all the other ducks in the next few days.

Then there's these tiny chicks. The little brown hen that incubated them caught me unawares

- I thought she had another week to go and was planning to move her from the Bantam house to the broody coop in order to hatch the chicks but all of a sudden there they were, so that was the end of that plan. She's a fiercely protective hen and has managed to keep 6 of the original 8 alive for a week; a long way to go yet though.

And then we have this rather handsome Cockerel with his 4 wives. They're Lincolnshire Buffs -a very rare breed. The Big Boss decided to name him Clarence but his ladies have yet to be christened......

We collected them from Gavin & Stacey's home the other side of Boston on Monday afternoon and so far they have been too shy to venture outside their little house. It was pouring with

rain yesterday so perhaps they could be forgiven for staying in. Today though I opened the front door in the hope they'd venture out, but still they are happier to stay inside.

They'll soon get used to their new surroundings though - if Gunner stops going to check they're OK that is!

"What of the Pigs?" I hear you cry.

So here we have the new 'Wallow What Precious Dug'.

She must have decided that the old one was no longer fit for purpose because she very determinedly started digging this one after breakfast this morning. It's just in front of the door to the ark so I suppose she can wallow at will without worrying while watching her offspring tumble around indoors where it's warm and dry.........

In the first of the two photos she's digging......

... and in the second she's blissfully wallowing for all she's worth.

And, finally, just to show she's not the only one digging a new hole.... in the final shot we have Ginger's two Spice Boys engaging in their favourite occupation....... they are just so happy that finally it is raining (and raining.... and raining) that they cannot stop digging - except if a human comes within sight or - maybe - it's breakfast or tea time. They're just 'heads down' and getting on with looking for truffles - or something - all day long.

They'll be moving up to join their older cousins on Friday though so that'll be the end of digging in peace for a while........

But I'm sure they'll not be there long before they come up with something new... again ..........!!!!!

Precious moments

A most glorious sunset welcomed the arrival of Precious's 4th litter.

She started serious nesting - great snoutfuls of straw and sticks gathered up and taken into the ark - halfway through yesterday afternoon and when I went to check on her at dusk there was a squiggling mass of bodies and more squealing and squeaking than I've heard from any newborns before.

It was not much quieter first thing this morning and the whole day has been punctuated by squeaks and squeals as the numerous little bodies snuggle up to the nearest available teat. Judging by the contents of the dinner dish, Precious did get out during the night but she's ignored her food today, clearly deciding that motherly duties take priority.

How many piglets? Somewhere between 7 and 11. Hopefully I'll be able to get a closer count tomorrow. The Boss says we're going to name them after Asteroids, it being that time of year and there being 10,000 or so to choose from. I thought Apples, it being that time of year and there being a dozen or so to choose from.................................. we shall see!

Lazy hazy crazy days of summer...

But they won't last much longer and then the real work will begin. With that thought in mind I made a call a couple of weeks back: "Can I book a water-work session with Rory?" I asked his good lady wife.....

Thus it was that The Bestest Gundog in all the World, and I, turned up in the middle of last week for a spot of training in a fishing lake not dissimilar in size to this one in the photo which is one of the 'ponds' on our local shoot.

Should a shot bird land on a lake during a 'drive' the dog of choice to retrieve it would be a Labrador - the coat and physique of which is particularly designed to withstand long spells in cold water. But there is not always a choice. Sometimes a spaniel has to go for it - but their coats are not waterproof and the dog quickly gets cold. So the more confidence and speed he has in water the better for all concerned.

The BGiatW is pretty good with rivers and small ponds but his experience with large water masses is limited. Therefore, warm summer weather being most conducive to a spot of swimming, I thought he'd have a bit of fun and improve his skills at the same time.

But the water was deep and wide and the Trainer unrelenting.

"We'll start off with a couple of easy ones" he said.

With which words he lobbed a dummy a few metres into the water to get the dog's brain working in the right direction.

"Walk him a few yards away from the pond then turn and send him in" he instructed.

And we complied; and the dog happily went for the dummy and brought it back to me - not fast but without hesitation. So Rory-the-Trainer repeated the exercise, this time flinging the dummy tens of metres out into the lake. Again the dog gamely went after it - snorting occasionally as the water went up his nose - and again he brought it back, steadily and deteminedly. Again the lesson was repeated at - again - a greater distance. Once more the dog did a good job of bringing it back. "Going jolly well" I thought - should have known better.

"Right" said the man "You two stay here; I'm going over the other side of the lake. I'll throw one dummy into the water then a second into the reeds at the bottom of the bank. In each case send your dog to retrieve - but there are waterhens in the reeds so don't let him get distracted."

"Right" I said.

Well, Rory hadn't even got half way round the other side when sharp eared dog suddenly sat up alertly and indicated a bird in the reeds. Which he continued to watch intently - although he did break off to watch Rory lob the dummy into the water as agreed. Sending Gunner out to "Fetch" brought an eager response - straight down into the water, right turn into the reeds - and after the waterhen which, obviously (being a seasoned Gundog) he knew was what I really meant he should fetch.

When he heard the sharp "No!" he instantly returned. Rory lobbed another dummy into the water on the other side.

"Fetch" I said. "Waterhen!" he thought "No!" I replied.

Back he came again.

"You'd better bring him round the side and fetch into the wind" said Rory, since one of the dummies was now happily floating towards the side and the other was firmly stuck in the reeds over there.

So we did and instructions were given and followed to the letter and I handed the two dummies to Rory. And we tried the same thing again, this time with him on the other bank.

But Gunner was having none of it. There were waterhens in the reeds and by hook or by crook he was going to flush them out or, better still, bring them to me.

"Fetch" and "No" were repeated and repeated and repeated - each time Gunner came back and each time Rory lobbed another dummy - fortunately not into the water but on to the bank on

his side. But Gunner would not go across. He was firmly determined to find that waterhen and fetch it back to me. Finally, he took charge of the situation and would not come back; instead he paddled up and down the reeds intent on catching that darned bird. By the 3rd recall whistle I was almost in the water and he got the message; "Uh Oh - she's whistling me to return!" And he sheepishly returned - and got the jolly good shaking that he knew to expect.

"Right - sit him well down the bank almost at the water's edge" said our patient Trainer.

And then he lobbed a dummy well out into the water.

"Fetch" I instructed and the dog entered the water, looked to the reeds on his right... "FETCH" I instructed and he snapped back in the direction of the dummy - but the 'tide' caught him and carried him well downstream. He swam on to where it should have been, then stopped and looked back at me: I gave a left arm signal; "Oh, that way is it?" he said; turned upwind, caught scent of it and quickly swam up to and retrieved it - and swam quickly back to give it to me as if to say "Whyever didn't you say that was what you wanted me to fetch?"

And he was probably right: whenever a dog gets something wrong it is invariably because the handler got the instruction wrong......

"That was an excellent re-direction in the water" said our Trainer "many dogs won't handle in water" and we finished on a good note. Good Trainer. Knew I'd be just as upset as the dog so no point rubbing it in.

The advice: return to river and small pond work and teach Gunner to go "over" the water rather than "Fetch" (which he now associates with game) and then return for another lesson in the lake!

Easy then. Still a few weeks to go before shooting season starts........