See you later, my ally Gator

Strong they may be but rabbits are no match for a big polecat hob,

- Simon Whitehead

It was a bitter day; the wind was strong and it carried with it the threat of snow. The avenue of ancient stone walls channelled Tawny, Dotty and me to the grassy field on the other side, with rabbits to the left and rabbits to the right keeping both dogs on their toes.

The silence was abruptly broken by my gargantuan polecat hob, Gator, scratching urgently at the lid of his ferret box. It is a sound that never fails to raise my hackles and transport me back to when the excitement and anticipation of a day out was often better than the actual ferreting itself. It was a time when I was constantly questioning what I was doing and the decisions I was making. Tens of thousands of words later, here we are again, but this time both hardware and software have been updated.

Bobbing scuts

It was a chilled day in more ways than one and the only money changing hands was when I bought a cappuccino. Relaxation was the order of the day and all I carried was a box of ferrets, a spade and a bagful of enthusiasm. I approached the ground gingerly because, on the horizon, I could see a fair few scuts bobbing and weaving about. Today was going to be a good day. Cast off into the wind, my lurchers, Dotty and Tawny, got to work immediately. I am yet to witness any finer sight than that of watching your own dogs work in the environment for which you bred them. They ran elegantly with their noses held high, tasting the scent in the air as they stepped up a gear or two.

Noses down, tails wagging frantically, they worked methodically among the tussocks and reeds. Although they found plenty of fresh scent, no rabbits were out feeding, but a rock-solid mark signalled the appearance of the ferrets, Gator and Gracey.