A long, long time ago.......

[skycat 6,174]

As it says in the title, a long, long time ago, many moons, (and years come to that), after a day's beating when the terriers had worked their socks off in the cover putting up birds all day, I just took them out for a quick walk the day after, just to give them a leg stretch.

 

Late afternoon of a November, and I was all set to go lamping that night as there was a good old wind a blowing, so just a quick mooch along a couple of fields and then back along an old gravel pit. There was a load of old brambles along this bank, which was about 18 foot high, right next to the little lane that leads down to the fishing lake car park. I knew there was an old earth there as the terriers had done a fox before in just that place, but we never got anything to ground until after Christmas so I knew we'd be safe

 

Just as we were coming along the top of this bank one of the lurchers (good old S. dog)) lifts up her nose and has a little sniff at the breeze which was fast approaching gale force. She turns to me and says "There's a fox in those bramble somewhere out there". Well, she might as well have spoken those exact words as the look in her eyes was that intense, and her eyes sort of glow with excitement when she scents a foxy.

 

The scent was obviously going over the top of the terriers' heads as they'd not even blinked, just mooching along like before. So I says "Giddon in there dogs" pointing to the big bramble just out from the bank a bit: well it covers another bit of a bank, about 20 feet from the bank we're stood on. It's all old piles of soil from when they dug out the gravel pits over 30 years ago.

 

The terriers, 2 half sisters, same dam, go piling down the bank and start rummaging about at the foot of the other bank, and the S. lurcher runs round the far side and starts dashing backwards and forwards all hot and bothered and knowing its in there somewhere.

 

The that deep throaty barking which says "I can smell 'im, I'm on 'im' and the next moment all hell breaks loose and I catch a flash of red between two bits of bramble and it's a big old bugger: big as a Collie dog: honestly!

 

Foxy breaks from one part of the brambles, which cover an area about the size of two tennis courts, and makes a dash along the gravelly flat bit right next to the old pit. The lurchers are going flat out and one turns him back again, into the bramble, and the terriers are still in there, screaming on the hot scent.

 

The white bitch must have all but run into foxy as he dives back into the cover, and he breaks again, and makes for the bank I'm stood on, and he's a great big lump of a thing. The S. lurcher makes a plunge and he turns back down, and the lurcher is upsidedown in a bramble roaring in rage.

 

Then I just see another lurcher turn in her tracks on the far side of the bramble bank as foxy steams past her: she digs deep and almost has him as he doubles back again, but this time he's run underneath a little hawthorn bush and into a bramble almost at my feet, and the little black and tan bitch is only yards behind.

 

Then it all goes quiet. The S. dog has pulled herself out of her particular bramble, and the black lurcher is running round in circles like a headless chicken saying "Where'd 'e go? Where'd e go?" And the white terrier comes up onto my bank and starts nosing about like she hasn't got a clue where he went.

 

Then the black lurcher shoves into the bramble at my feet, and yes! She's got her snout down a 'rabbit hole' and she's digging and bawling and thrashing about in the brambles like a thing possessed. And the S. dog runs down and dives underneath the black dog and she starts whining and bawling too.

 

"Oh SH*T" says I, for I know what that means, and I scoop up the white bitch as she tries to get in there as well. It's getting a bit duskish now and the wind is picking up some more, and the other lurchers are all milling around and grumbling cos they've missed out on the action. Lead on, tie the white bitch up then in I go, on hands and knees to begin with, rip my good new jeans on summat, nettle my face, and end up wriggling in under those bloody bramble stems, you know, the old tough ones that won't bend or break without a good chop from a sharp spade..

 

Gets my head down the hole, hold my breath, kick some dogs back as they try to get in over the top of my head.........and listen..........not a sound, not a grunt, not a yap, not a damn thing. If it wasn't for the lurchers telling me that chaser and chased had gone in there I wouldn't have had a clue where they were.

 

Then very faintly, far away, a sort of grunt and a bit of a bump. So what do I do? This bitch is just 2 years old, and though she's been to ground before, that was just in a couple of easy earths: this is a big old bank and there's rowan and hawthorn trees along it (roots!) not to mention all the old brambles, and more to the point she's got no collar on: not good at all.

 

So I wait a bit, and a bit more, and its getting colder and darker all the while and then I hear a faint yap, then music to my ears as the baying gets stronger and steadier. Then a load of bumping and rah-rah-rah and more baying.

 

Out with the phone: "Help!"I texts to my OH who I know is planning an early couple of hours on the lamp (Ooops!) "Sorreeee: M. has run a fox to ground: can you come and bring her dam and a collar pleeeeeese!"

 

Poor b*gger: he's had to do this before on more than the odd occasion. Ten minutes later he's here, not even cursing one little bit: (I'll make a terrier man of him yet! LOL) Collar on M.'s old mother who is nearly 11 years old, and still desperate to do a lot, or even a bit, though I've retired her God knows how many times. This old girl is screaming to get in the hole, which is right at the base of the bank, by the way. In she goes: silence for a bit, and my OH gets in among the brambles covering the bank, cursing a lot by now as his head gets wacked by the thorns and falls down the loose dry earth of the bank.

 

"I've got her at 10 feet" comes faintly from the middle of the bramble after about 5 minutes No way, we think, these holes are only likely to go in a bit and then along a ways. He does a good impression of a badger as he grunts and ploughs further in to the thorns, and then says after another 15 minutes at least of this, but I'll cut it short or we'll be here all night "I've got her at about 2 1/2 feet under this ash tree" About 15 feet along the bank from the entrance.

 

It's proper dark now, and the wind's blowing the sound of the rush hour traffic right into us like its only a few yards away, and I'm sat there thinking, if only they knew! All wrapped up in their nice little cars with the heater on full and the radio soothing their heads.

 

Out with the spade, and I crawl into the bramble to light up proceedings: just the low beam of the lamp and he starts digging. Dry loose earth, then roots, more roots, more cursing, and every now and again he says he can hear a bit of a bump from underneath. After what seems like hours he breaks through, and there's a terrier nose trying to push on past the opening further in, and its the young bitch, with a couple of nicks on her nose: now we know its not a rabbit. LOL

 

I'll cut this short now as it's almost over: pull both terriers out though the old girl is doing a good impression of an eel in my hands and I've left the leads the other side of the bramble OH chops away at the side of the hole, then says he can see a tail end, just a furry mound and its wedged in so tight you couldn't get a tooth pick in along side it. And its not moving.......at all.

 

He clears a bit of earth from round it and the S.dog slithers into the hole and gets hold and pulls, and pulls and pulls and comes back like a cork from a bottle with foxy. And its dead as a dodo: suffocated by its own body stuffed in tighter than any rabbit in a stop end. And this is a big old thing, not a squibby yearling or vixen but a mature male.

 

I'm chuffed with the young bitch: she's been to ground for over 2 hours on her own, and pushed it and pushed it until the end, though it's always a sad thing for me to break through to a fox that didn't want to fight back after the first confrontation. You feel as though you've done something a bit underhand, and taken advantage in some way: though how were we to know when it all started.

 

Then we went back home in the pitch dark and the rush hour traffic was easing a bit.

 

At least the farmer on the hill wouldn't lose any more pheasants, and this fox looked about as fat and big as they come.

 

Like I said at the beginning: its a long time ago that all this took place, though the gales tonight just reminded of that evening, and the moral of this tale is always make sure you leave a good terrier at home just in case you need it! The old girl was made up with her role in proceedings, even if all she did was help locate her daughter. Moral of this one is: always leave a terrier at home when your['e mooching about: you never know when it might come in handy!

 

Sorry I've drivelled on a bit, but you know what its like when you get to thinking of something: you just have to write it down and I thought some folks might enjoy hearing about someone else's mad times. Has anyone else got some unexpected tales??

[Guest parlington]

GOOD STORY MATE REALLY ENJOYED READING IT

[Guest SJM]

Any pics ?

[Guest rio]

VERY GOOD READ

[skycat 6,174]

Any pics ?

 

Fraid not: don't usually take the camera out in the dark! And my phone's only a cheap old thing. You'll just have to take my word for it SJM: anyone that knows me knows I don't make things up! And isn't there a rule that there must be a gun in the pic or it'll get taken off: I put a pic up once with a dog on a fox and admin took it straight off!

[Guest SJM]

No need to go on the defensive I just thought it was a good read and topics like that are always enhanced when theres pics of the day. Theres always a way you can word it so the pics are acceptable. No worries though, enjoyed the read

[Royston2 0]

I dont believe it....

[Royston2 0]

ha ha ha ha ha

After writing all that thought i could wind you up quite easily lol

[skycat 6,174]

I wasn't trying to be defensive: its just that I know that some people don't believe a word of what they hear or read unless there's pics to prove it. I'll put a pic up of the little terrier that did all the graft though, but of course it's such a long time ago that there's hardly a mark left on her.

 

Royston: wind me up: moi??? Never

[Guest EXTREME DOGS]

very enjoyable read mate

[higgins 75]

enjoyed that,love them unpredictable days mooching when they turn out well,good hunting,

Higgins.

[Miffy77 0]

Cracking read ,ignore comments about the pics I got lost in the words !

Who needs pics we've all had experiences some maybe not like that ,

but you can relate !

[terriermaid 3]

i enjoyed the read thankyou