My ferreting has been a little later this year. Basecamp Whitehead has returned north, and it has taken a bit longer than envisaged. To hurry things up Shaun came from Derbyshire to help clear some logs and enjoy a day ferreting.
It was a damp and dew-soaked morning. The incessant sound of the ferrets’ claws on ageing wooden boxes raised our heartbeat as it echoed round the hillside, occasionally punctuated by the bleating of the sheep. We set about the first few warrens.
Tawny stood statuesque over a set of peaty tunnels as a scattering of purse-nets were laid while I dropped a couple of long-nets. As much as Shaun enjoys his ferreting, he loves watching the dogs work more and, because Tawny was fit, sound and keen, I didn’t want to disappoint.
The first few warrens followed the same pattern. Ferrets in, stand back and wait, then get the spade out. The depths of the pipes were measured in inches not feet, so it wasn’t a hardship. However, I wanted to get Tawny’s legs stretching and this wasn’t the venue for that so I made the decision to move to another part of the farm.
Tasty
A steep bank between fields looked as tasty as one of the pies that these rabbits will be going into. I got Tawny out to have a butcher’s and she perched herself like a tahr on the tip of a rock. Game on, I thought.
During the previous few hours our harvest had run into double figures, but this was going to be the Tawny show. This is what Shaun wanted to see. A dog, box or two of ferrets and nature in its rawest yet finest form. I am yet to experience a finer sight, a better feeling and adrenalin rush than watching a lurcher work rabbit in this fashion. At one with nature where the silence was deafening as I placed a fistful of ferrets to ground.
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