Prey Fixation

Anyone who knows me will know that I am a bit obsessed when it comes to prey animals. If I know there's a rat skulking in the undergrowth or a squirrel in the loft space, or in the Albertine rose which clings to the back of the house, then I will sit for hours and hours, willing it down for one last deadly game of "Catch". Now, Mum mocks this behavious saying that I hunt like their old ginger tomcat "Kalamazoo" used to; watching the activities of birds, working out their flight lines and then sitting in the way with my mouth open, waiting for one to fly in.

Ha! Let me tell you I have had several kills in my short life, as this blog will attest - a rather shame-inducing robin early on, but since then a squirrel in the Cemetery and one indoors, and a rabbit on this year's 2CV camp.

But now we have a regular squirrel visiting the Albertine again, and spending some of his time on the roof of a sparrow roosting box just below the upstairs window sill. Mum suggested that Dad put a small strip of wood along it and a row of peanuts for him to find when "treed" all day by over-enthusiastic westies, lest he go hungry. There is now a small bowl screwed to the roof of the box, and the squirrel sits on it, outside the window and eats the nuts. I can get to the inside of this window by climbing onto the bed, and thence the window sill, so I can drive myself mad watching the little varmint feet away, but safe outside the double glazing. I can watch for hours. I am losing my mind!

Deefski

White Death

Today I graduated from birds to mammals in the "steely-eyed killer" department. The only other kill to my name (shamefully) was a robin over a year ago - search robin on this blog and you'll probably find it. But today, being walked home on a lead through the cemetery, the "H" and I were darting hither and thither after squirrels. Dad was not too worried, because squirrels are way faster than westies and have the advantage of being able to cheat, using the 3rd dimension.

So when I dashed after this particular varmint who raced round the back of the tree, and so did I, we all assumed he'd go upwards. Amazingly, he didn't but stayed down in the ivy on the ground, where a terrier nose quickly sussed him, and it was all over in a couple of squeals and a shake, before Dad had realised what was up and had time to react. Haggis came and bounced, and Megan rushed up and sniffed, but I had already claimed the kill.

Not so brave last night though, as the funfair came to town and the owner/manager put on an impressive firework display. Megan is completely chilled to fireworks, and Haggis un-afraid - he shouts at them to get out of his air-space. Me though - I'm not so sure. I cowered behind Dad's legs and when he picked me up, I watched, but my little bod was a-shivering and my tail was down.

Today, looks like a bit of a day off for chilling out and lying in the sun, recovering from all that huntin', shoot'n', root'n' toot'n'.

Oh, and did I also mention that I killed a Chanel compact. Took some doing. Had to bite through plastic and a glass mirror.... but a dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do.

White Death
Deefer

Round and round the mulberry bush

The cemetery again and the three of us on flexi leads. Rabbits everywhere. But Dad's hanging on tight this time and the mobile doesn't go off (though we almost got away when Dad tried to juggle the three leads and a poo-bag to pick up Meggie's donation). Never mind - we get a good run around up the "far end" while there's nobody about

So, frustrated by this lack of escape, I am taking up the baton of squirrel chasing, moving the skill on from Megan's tutor-ship. While Meggie chases a squirrel to the tree and then, when it disappears upwards she hops around indecisively, I run at the tree aiming to be drawn in by the gravity towards the trunk and then run around the tree in a full circle (or even two) checking out all angles in quick succession.

I further aim to score bonus points relative to the Meg and the H, by being a prim and proper Miss when it comes to the one muddy puddle on the Rec. Both M and H are drawn inexorably towards this as moths to a candle flame, and invariably come away with black majorette boots. My mission is to return from every walk with immaculate feet. as white and fluffy as when I set out. (OK, as beige and no more scruffy).

Have a lovely evening
Deefs

The Squirrels

Spring is definitely with us, and even the Forest is drying out. We went a lovely long walk, the reverse of the Friends of Kingswood "Deer walk" - Dad was out with the telephoto again trying to get that prized Fallow Deer picture; and no, he won't sneak off to the deer park in Sevenoaks and blag one. This has to be (apparently) a real Challock Forest deer in Challock Forest. It's an obsession. He had to make do yesterday though with this charmer of Meggie at one of the Friends' ponds, with me in the background.

Out on the Rec the squirrels are out and about in force, and I am getting to really enjoy the hunt. Used to be Meggie's thing, but lately she's feeling her age and can't run them down like she used to, so she looks on proudly while I charge about.

The second pic is me on one of the patio chairs. Definitely in need of a hair cut!

Snow on the way, apparently, Sunday

Deefer