Dad's home from work, but it's tanking down and shows every sign of being set in for a wet weekend. To be sure, the garden and the allotment need it badly but it'll be a bit miserable for Dad's deer-walk in Challock Forest tomorrow. He is guide tomorrow. No problem, he says. the deer can cope fine with the rain. It's the blustery winds that unsettle them, filling the forest with human scent well before the walking party tries to creep in undiscovered.
Ah well. We shall see what we shall see. Poor ol' Mum has a bad throat at present, so she's not even allowed to go visit Diamond, who's back into hospital for a final (we all hope) session of treatment.
Have a good weekend
Deefski
Showing posts with label Deer Walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Deer Walk. Show all posts
Friday, 9 October 2009
Monday, 13 October 2008
Missing the Forest (twice)
It comes to something when we've missed two excellent walks in the forest. Dad has been up his "guided walks" stuff again, both at short notice as a favour to the new Committee of the "Friends of Kings Wood", who seem to be plagued by no-show walk leaders.
Unfortunately, on neither was it possible for us to come along, once because it was at in the gathering gloom and Dad didn't want us racing off when he had umpteen small herberts to look out for, once because deer and westies (allegedly) don't mix.
The first was an evening walk for the local "Beavers" (junior cub-scouts)
http://www2.scouts.org.uk/beavers/index.html?gclid=CPOQ5-HDpJYCFQOeFQodK3Gd6w
- the "1st Great Chart". Advertised as a "Night walk" it started at quarter to 6 and the kids were all equipped with torches and those small forehead-mounted miners' lamps, plus the Boss-Beavers had boxes of glow-sticks to give out.
There were 30 children, 20 or so Mums and Dads and 3 leaders (plus Dad and 4 FoKW members). It was a great success, and it was great (says Dad) to look back behind and see a long snake of children with torches winding through the paths, and hear their excited voices. It's quite dark in there by the time we got back to the carpark (19:30) so it must have felt like a real adventure!
3 days later the walks dept was back in action again, this time on the old favourite Deer Dawdle - where Dad stepped in to rescue the day, when Forestry Commission Forest Ranger Steve had to pull out at the last minute.
Dad's been on a few of Steve's walks so can almost do the patter verbatim by now, and knows where the rutting stands are and where to walk to get good views. We even have a skull and antlers for a 6-7 year old Fallow Deer to wave around and show off at the pre-walk intro. The deer performed on cue - roaring and grunting round the stand, and chasing about - even staging an antler-clashing fight off the stand as a side show. It was a great success.
Never mind - we've been promised a forest walk soon to compensate.
Deefski
Unfortunately, on neither was it possible for us to come along, once because it was at in the gathering gloom and Dad didn't want us racing off when he had umpteen small herberts to look out for, once because deer and westies (allegedly) don't mix.
The first was an evening walk for the local "Beavers" (junior cub-scouts)
http://www2.scouts.org.uk/beavers/index.html?gclid=CPOQ5-HDpJYCFQOeFQodK3Gd6w
- the "1st Great Chart". Advertised as a "Night walk" it started at quarter to 6 and the kids were all equipped with torches and those small forehead-mounted miners' lamps, plus the Boss-Beavers had boxes of glow-sticks to give out.
There were 30 children, 20 or so Mums and Dads and 3 leaders (plus Dad and 4 FoKW members). It was a great success, and it was great (says Dad) to look back behind and see a long snake of children with torches winding through the paths, and hear their excited voices. It's quite dark in there by the time we got back to the carpark (19:30) so it must have felt like a real adventure!
3 days later the walks dept was back in action again, this time on the old favourite Deer Dawdle - where Dad stepped in to rescue the day, when Forestry Commission Forest Ranger Steve had to pull out at the last minute.
Dad's been on a few of Steve's walks so can almost do the patter verbatim by now, and knows where the rutting stands are and where to walk to get good views. We even have a skull and antlers for a 6-7 year old Fallow Deer to wave around and show off at the pre-walk intro. The deer performed on cue - roaring and grunting round the stand, and chasing about - even staging an antler-clashing fight off the stand as a side show. It was a great success.
Never mind - we've been promised a forest walk soon to compensate.
Deefski
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Poor little Gigot
It's the weekend, so the humans are flying about everywhere. Dad runs a "deer walk" in Challock Forest, where it's the rut for the 200 or so fallow deer in there. Westies, faced with a fallow deer tend to give chase, yipping in frustration as they fail to keep up, so we are grounded for this one and dad goes off on his own.
The walkers have a great time - "Probably the best Deer Walk ever!" enthuses dad when he gets back. Apparently, being a small group they were able to get some nice close long sightings, and listen to the big old bucks roaring out their challenges. At one point they's left the immediate area of the rutting stand and moved off to near some dense young chestnut coppice, when up one of the cleared strips they saw a young person (not one of their group) stroll through.
This person (probably completely un-awares) had worried all the deer off the stand, and into the chestnut. Suddenly one big full-grown buck with huge, fully palmated antlers came trotting out of the chestnut 20 feet from Dad's group, more concerned with avoiding the person, than looking in front of him. He spotted Dad's group and stopped, then turned with great dignity, antlers back, nose high, high-stepping front feet, and trotted off back into the chestnut. Dad says the whole group had stopped breathing at that stage. Awesome!
Mum and Dad have also been out and about shopping (mmm - dog treats!), and then came back and we got our walk, off to the Rec for a game of plastic bottle. Sometimes we play "plastic bottle" (Dad throwing or kicking, me chasing and nailing, then running around with bottle in ever increasing state of chewed, squashed-ness).
Sometimes we play "chase the seagull from miles away" - this involves me in full-bore, head down, gallop from good distances, bearing down on seagulls on the football pitches. Sometimes the 2 games get confused and I've still got the bottle ("Powerade" sports drink tonight) wideways in my mouth when a seagull needs chasing. The look on the gull's face as a madly charging juice bottle comes racing towards it with legs going like pistons underneath and a tail sticking up behind, is priceless
We meet "Gigot", a small Bedlington out with his new Mum and Dad, his new stable-mates a brown lab and a small long haired beastie. Poor Gigot is in a sorry state, having been rescued just 3 weeks ago from what sounds like a house of horrors. 3 weeks ago he was one of nine Bedlingtons kept by some awful bloke - all nine dogs were tangled fur, a mass of sores from parasite bites and swollen red feet from walking in their own excrement and wee.
They were cringing from the old owner, so that new-Mum had to take the dog straight out to the car while the new Dad did the paperwork "else I'd have killed the bloke", she said. Gigot's tail is almost bald near the base and his fur gives way to scabby patches here and there. They were (compulsorily) re-homed, one ending up with this family.
Gigot is now all trimmed and cleaned up, his poor feet (although still a bit pink) are nearly back to normal, and he's under the vet and anti-biotics for his sores and skin lesions. He's a gentle soul though and is slowly getting used to the fact that some men will treat him properly.
We dogs (we're quiet and careful anyway near any unknown dog - Dad seems to be very proud of us being on our "best behaviour" for Gigot, understanding that he needs gently socialising.) My Dad crouches and talks to him gently, and extends a hand to be sniffed. After a while Gigot accepts a bit of a fuss round the face and then comes right in close to Dad to be petted gently. His new Mum and Dad are almost moved to tears to see him being so "brave" and making such good progress. When they first got him he was very upset and scared at any unknown people or dogs.
We'll look out for you, Gigot - you are among friends. "Gigot", by the way, comes from the fact that Bedlingtons look very lamb-like when they are fully furred up and clean.
Bless
Deefer
The walkers have a great time - "Probably the best Deer Walk ever!" enthuses dad when he gets back. Apparently, being a small group they were able to get some nice close long sightings, and listen to the big old bucks roaring out their challenges. At one point they's left the immediate area of the rutting stand and moved off to near some dense young chestnut coppice, when up one of the cleared strips they saw a young person (not one of their group) stroll through.
This person (probably completely un-awares) had worried all the deer off the stand, and into the chestnut. Suddenly one big full-grown buck with huge, fully palmated antlers came trotting out of the chestnut 20 feet from Dad's group, more concerned with avoiding the person, than looking in front of him. He spotted Dad's group and stopped, then turned with great dignity, antlers back, nose high, high-stepping front feet, and trotted off back into the chestnut. Dad says the whole group had stopped breathing at that stage. Awesome!
Mum and Dad have also been out and about shopping (mmm - dog treats!), and then came back and we got our walk, off to the Rec for a game of plastic bottle. Sometimes we play "plastic bottle" (Dad throwing or kicking, me chasing and nailing, then running around with bottle in ever increasing state of chewed, squashed-ness).
Sometimes we play "chase the seagull from miles away" - this involves me in full-bore, head down, gallop from good distances, bearing down on seagulls on the football pitches. Sometimes the 2 games get confused and I've still got the bottle ("Powerade" sports drink tonight) wideways in my mouth when a seagull needs chasing. The look on the gull's face as a madly charging juice bottle comes racing towards it with legs going like pistons underneath and a tail sticking up behind, is priceless
We meet "Gigot", a small Bedlington out with his new Mum and Dad, his new stable-mates a brown lab and a small long haired beastie. Poor Gigot is in a sorry state, having been rescued just 3 weeks ago from what sounds like a house of horrors. 3 weeks ago he was one of nine Bedlingtons kept by some awful bloke - all nine dogs were tangled fur, a mass of sores from parasite bites and swollen red feet from walking in their own excrement and wee.
They were cringing from the old owner, so that new-Mum had to take the dog straight out to the car while the new Dad did the paperwork "else I'd have killed the bloke", she said. Gigot's tail is almost bald near the base and his fur gives way to scabby patches here and there. They were (compulsorily) re-homed, one ending up with this family.
Gigot is now all trimmed and cleaned up, his poor feet (although still a bit pink) are nearly back to normal, and he's under the vet and anti-biotics for his sores and skin lesions. He's a gentle soul though and is slowly getting used to the fact that some men will treat him properly.
We dogs (we're quiet and careful anyway near any unknown dog - Dad seems to be very proud of us being on our "best behaviour" for Gigot, understanding that he needs gently socialising.) My Dad crouches and talks to him gently, and extends a hand to be sniffed. After a while Gigot accepts a bit of a fuss round the face and then comes right in close to Dad to be petted gently. His new Mum and Dad are almost moved to tears to see him being so "brave" and making such good progress. When they first got him he was very upset and scared at any unknown people or dogs.
We'll look out for you, Gigot - you are among friends. "Gigot", by the way, comes from the fact that Bedlingtons look very lamb-like when they are fully furred up and clean.
Bless
Deefer
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