That First Step

What a feeling! When that young, inexperienced terrier actually goes and meets its game for the very first time. That’s a moment to be savoured and the longer you have had to wait, the more satisfaction you will feel. Perhaps in the weeks leading up to the youngsters “first time” you have had a few “false starts” where the terrier has entered and failed to find or has bumped into their fox but did not have the experience to follow its path through the tight, dark apertures. Although, slightly disheartening, it should be expected that naive tykes make mistakes.
Yesterday my bitch, Pig, went for the very first time. Pig is a solid stamp of a terrier and is a good size too at 25lb in weight. I have never tried to span her because I know that I could not, and I’m not interested in all that spanning rubbish anyway.

Pig was bred from my old bitch Jane. Jane had been a good worker for me and she always did me proud. She never bayed in her short life and we usually needed one hole to get our fox. She was the sort of bitch that deserves to be bred out of. The only drawback with Jane was her size, or rather, lack of it. She was quite simply too hard for her size. With this in mind I looked for a big strong dog to put over her. No point in breeding a small dog to a small bitch really. It is plainly obvious that too many have gone down that route before and ended up with tiny little things that just get blown out of the way by their quarry.

I was extremely lucky to manage to scrounge a lining out of my mates white dog, Butter. This strong dog is a good worker and, the icing on the cake is that it is related to Jane. Butters sire was Jane’s uncle, if you know what i mean. I have had the pleasure of digging to Butter on his own ground down in Shropshire and I was mightily impressed. We had a dig in a bad place, but in the end, the dog triumphed over adversity and as we broke through we found Butter fencing with his game, keeping it in one place just perfect. We shot this fox and I gave Butter a good look over. Surprisingly he had not taken much stick and I dare say we could have dug another with him that morning too. That’s just what I am after: a dog that you can get a couple of digs out of in one day. Unfortunately they seem hard to find. In fact, dogs you can dig to are hard to find! There is plenty of talk, but it seems, plenty of untruths too. I am reminded of a tale my mate told me a while ago. For years a lad had been boasting about how many he digs and how hard his dogs were. Well, one morning my mate got to see just how good this blokes dogs were. Firstly, the chap tried a bitch that was reputed to be “Very hard” and it only went in for a minute, coming out and pronouncing the earth to be void. Next, another terrier was tried and this would not even go! So my mate put his non-descript terrier in and dug a brace just like that! So much for all the boasting! With regards terriers, I think that it is prudent to only believe what you see.

From the amalgamation of these two fine, working terriers, Jane and Butter, came seven pups. Five of these little white babies died during the caesarean birth and I was left with two puppies, a dog and a bitch. Butters owner, Stef, was most generous when he let me keep both pups, and I am sure that there would not be many out there what would have not taken a pup on in lieu of the mating. These two pups were named Pig and Bear and they were a handful from day one. Many amusing antics were had whilst they grew up and matured and they developed their own characters. Bear was more excitable and, I would say, more forward than Pig. Time travelled fast and soon it was time for Bear to enter. Although I have not got time to elaborate now, this strong dog did not make the grade. This was evident after I had failed with him so many times in his first season. I dug four with him, but he was lacking in something. Like I said earlier, I expect to fail with young dogs, but you have just got to be brutally honest with yourself and if they are not going to make it, then they are not going to make it. It is a terrible shame, especially when we had raised them from one hour old, but what do you do?

By the time Pig was eighteen months old she had shown absolutely no inclination to commit herself to work. I was not perturbed and after showing her a few foxes behind the shovel she started to show a little interest in them. This bitch appeared to be immature and puppyish until about 22 months of age. In fact, she is still a little giddy now, but I think that is her character. I tried her in many occupied places but she would not go. She did not really show much interest really but I was not disheartened and I always made sure she was coupled up outside the entrance whenever we were having a dig. Whether this helps or not I cannot say, but I don’t think it did her any harm. Then it happened. She suddenly started to get keener and keener. I think what was then turning point was when she bolted a fox from out of an artificial drain on our permission. I say bolted, but what I really mean was that the fox bolted itself when the terrier went in a yard or so. She never made contact, but she definitely turned the corner at that moment.

Three weeks after bolting that fox we got called out from another farmer. My mate, John, and I set off down to Derbyshire, hoping for a good mornings sport. This was summertime and I don’t really like going out with the terriers, but if the farmer wants you down then what can you do? We had a very early morning start at it, this was so that we could work the dogs and get off home before the weather became to hot. The first place was an absolute cracker. On the side of an old railway we dug one with my rough-coated bitch Womble. A short journey in the jeep saw us at the next farm. This place has been very kind to us, and we have dug plenty off of it the previous season. We had the craic with the farmer and he pointed us in the direction of where these troublesome ginger critters were living. This farmer is bang on about dog work; he doesn’t want everything killing, just when they start to become a nuisance. But, I suppose that is what we all do with our dogs. No point in killing everything, just keep the fox population down to a level where it causes little damage.

After a brisk walk across some maize fields we arrived at a superb little place. About half a dozen holes were situated under a hazel tree, it was obviously well run and fresh fox pads were evident. We were particularly pleased because the last time we were here we had to do quite an amount of backfilling. This earth had been dug by the hunt a good few times ands they had not backfilled correctly; hence, nothing had used it for some time. There was someone in it this time though. Pig was taken over to the earth and she marked a little pilot hole very strongly. There was just no way she could have fit down there, but we collared her up anyway and let her go. She checked all the entrances, but she kept returning back to the small pilot hole. I would say that in the past it had been a rabbit’s bolthole and this is where Pig could smell the fox most strongly. She did not have the experience or intelligence to try and go from one of the other holes. It did not bother me because she had shown that she, at least, has a nose for the scent. We coupled her back up and put the collar on Johns young dog Taz. This strong, rough-coated, black dog has seen a few and he is just learning his trade. Because he had more experience than Pig I was sure he would go straight to the fox. And that’s what he did. A mark was gained out in the field at about three foot. We had a good listen, but could hear nothing save the odd rumble. Taz is a bit hard and I have yet to hear him bay, so once he had remained stationary for five minutes we started to dig. It was a textbook dig and we broke through to find the dog digging on to his game. Taz was lifted and with the torch, about a foot away, we could see a brace of foxes. A superb dig for a young dog. He had been into them because he wore the medals of war on his muzzle, but nothing a jab of penicillin wouldn’t heal.

About sixty yards away there is another three-hole place. The collar was fitted on Pig and she was allowed to examine this earth at her leisure. She went straight to the most well run entrance and gave it a good scenting. Then, not a little excited, she quickly checked the other two before slowly creeping to ground down her original choice. I was on edge. This was what she had been bred for, what would happen? There was silence for about a minute then baying started for a minute or so before she made contact. This was the time when she would have every opportunity to come away. We started a good hole and within fifteen or twenty minutes we had broke through at the three foot mark to find Pig fast hold of her game, trying to pull her fox down the tube. We did what was necessary and tidied the area up. Back at the farm, the farmer was happy, but not as happy as me!

Ok, So the earth was about as easy as they come, but I had waited so long for that moment. And, it had arrived. But what will happen now I do not know. That’s the trouble, once they enter now all the trouble will start, then you find out if they will make the grade or not. Pig was two years and one day old. She may spew it totally the next time out. Or she may never go again. I have done my bit; the breedings there, she has been entered slowly and in her own time. The future is up to her. I could do with a bit of luck right now. Out of the four pups I ran on during the 2002-2003 season Pig was the last to enter. Bear never fully made the grade despite being the one I had originally had the most confidence in. Womble had a great first season accounting for 26 foxes by the time she was 20 months old. After that she failed on a really easy one and I will just have to see how she goes this season. But that’s another story. Lily is a smooth coated bitch and I managed to get a couple with her in the last week of February. I don’t think she is going to be a world-beater, but she may make a reasonable fox bitch because she has that, all-important, nose that a working terrier simply must possess.

I have just taken possession of a pup for the season after next. This one is called Panda and is a black and white bitch that looks remarkably like Cody. I don’t like pups really, but they are a necessary evil, for without a pup coming on all the time you quickly end up struggling for dogs like I was a couple of seasons ago. Last season I also had my old bitch Lucy put to sleep, which was a bad day for me. She had a good life and it was her back that had finally given in on her. Poor old lass! Lucy was not the best in the world, in fact, she would come out, but for a young lad she was a remarkable tool for finding foxes and I know that without her I would not know the earths that I do now. Although she was not a true working terrier in the literal sense of the word, she was a very handy little dog to have in ones possession. But that’s terriers for you.

I hope that Pig will carry on in her parent’s pawprints and make the grade, as it would be very handy to have such a strong bitch to breed out of. Only time will tell.

Written By J.Darcy