Coming Back to Life

'Pirate Wolf' spider. A new one on us.

With a recent run of warm days it has been fascinating for us to see our big new pond coming back to life. Of course, it was never really 'dead' and we have been able to see water boatmen and water beetles nipping about all winter, including under the ice on the few times that it was frozen. We 'finished' the pond last year in May and were soon rewarded with lots of incoming species especially the insects including all manner of tiny whizzers and wrigglers, only a few of which we could identify with any certainty. We bought a good range of young plants and some snails from Mimmack Aquatics (in Essex) and enjoyed them all as they started to get roots down in the autumn, but then watched everything die back to nothing (visible) as winter came and we have waited anxiously through winter wondering which of our species would make it through.

Towser's favourite look-out post, the bedroom window.

The pond has been brim-full since December topped up by rain and the run off from round by the poly tunnel. That can be a bit cloudy with mud flowing in, so our crystal-clear status has been on hold for most of that time and now, as it starts to fall bright again, we find we are peering into the murk, sure that things are growing down there but unable to see in any detail. The trays and planters of submerged plants are all putting out titillating green spikes and there are fronds of hornwort and Elodia expanding. Closer to the surface, in the 'shelves' we have obvious shoots on water mint, flag irises and marsh marigold.

My share of the hawthorn/ivy tree in Bob's link box.

There was great excitement on Wednesday morning when I saw a newt. This is our first voluntary amphibian and is probably our ultimate in the wildlife we wanted to attract to this wildlife pond, which we had deliberately not allowed fish into and have kept the geese away from. I had, in fact, lobbed a few newts and frogs into the pond last year if I had had to 'rescue' them from any grass I was cutting (or in the newt's case he had fallen into the vertical-sided half barrel goose 'pond'). This was just to show them it existed, but the frog breeding season came and went, with a few road-kill frogs in the lane but no breeding or spawn for us. Liz's newt-survey trainer-man had said that it might take the newts 6 years to 'find' us.

I do not think 'proper' conservationists are meant to import frog spawn by the well known 'bucket from elsewhere' method; you are meant to let succession happen naturally; but I must confess that K-Dub has offered us a bucket from the pond at his Father's place in Dublin, which is overwhelmed with the amount of spawn. We are going to sneak this in and see if we can 'help things along' a bit.

We have also noticed that along with all the re-awakening of small wrigglers and insects, we seem to have gained a few new types which we will have to try to identify. There is a spider who seems to sit on the edge-stones with smaller examples (children?) in a little row nearby, and we have seen them all nipping down to the water's edge, apparently to drink, before nipping back up. They 'park' in a tidy, narrow position with all their legs tucked in close to their sides. I have posted his pic on the old faithful Kent Wildlife Trust page on Facebook and got a proper ID, he is a male Pirate Wolf Spider (Pirata piraticus). Ah harrrrr!

Chestnut mushrooms from the poly tunnel.

Away from the pond, life is starting up impressively too. The spent mushroom compost in the poly tunnel is back pumping out fruiting bodies of chestnut mushroom for our supper. All the trees in the orchard are now showing bud break. There is plenty of new green in the thyme growing on our keyhole bed and the front lawn is looking shaggy enough to be needing its first cut.

If you sit by the pond, don't let your cake droop to hen-level!

Finally a very quick update on our baby chick 'Lonely Roads'. Things are not looking great. He is not making any use of his right leg. It is a shame. He is a pretty little thing and full of spirit and 'shout'. He started eating on the start of day 3 (That was a relief!) and now piles into the hard boiled egg I 'peck' up for him on the end of a pencil, and more recently also pecks it up himself from the ground if I drop it. He is a cheeky little thing and will refuse to peck at the 'proper' food (chick crumb) looking at you very old fashioned if you try to sneak a pencil-load of crumb in, in between chunks of the egg. Had he not the leg issue I would be delighted with 'our' progress, both him and with me learning to hand-rear chicks but his duff leg is a cold hard reality; he did not get many winning numbers in life's lottery, Bless him and we think he may run out of luck on Friday.

Every dog we ever had.....

Every dog we ever had visit this garden has gone in the pond at least once, Every visiting dog, every owned dog, every pup we ever bred. At this stage we are used to it, so when we have a dog visiting we all sit in the gravel garden by the pond, armed with dog towels and await the inevitable. The new dog(s) charge around exploring, maybe playing with resident dogs and eventually the play gets that bit too distracting or the draw of this new, unfamiliar 'thang' is too strong and there's a plop or a splash.

Dogs can probably get out again easy enough as there are beaches and edge planting, but Mum or Dad generally lean over, grab the wet collar and haul the unfortunate sodden beast out onto the gravel for a run around, shake and towel off. Then it's just a question of allowing drying nature to take its course before the dog is brushed down, good as new, all be it minging of pond. Better this system than we sit somewhere else and we are not immediately aware that the splash has happened and the dog flounders around getting scared or, God forbid, drowned, which would rather dampen the party spirits.

So here is a picture of Boris, who visited again tonight with 2CV Llew, freshly dunked while Rosie (an experienced dipper) sleeps contentedly in Llew's arms. He'll do. He can come and stay with us in June. We'll cope!

Deefs

ASBO - a reformed character

Regular readers will remember "Asbo", also known as "Ragworth", Patterdale terrier of Diamond and ol' Denis. You won't have seen much of him lately in these pages, since there was a problem on one of his visits, with the late Felix, our black and white cat, and Diamond has not felt safe bringing him since.

Well, lots of water has flowed under the bridge since then, Felix has gone, Rags has grown up a bit and Denis is now in hospital. So today, Rags is spruced up, shampood, combed and made to look a picture of non-asbo-ness, fluffed and clean (see first picture). Off he goes to hospital in our car as good as gold, trots obediently in, visits Denis, makes a big fuss of him, allows Denis to show him off round the day-room, meeting other patients. He is perfectly behaved, sociable, a credit to Diamond.

Then they adjourn back here for a roast lamb meal. We barely have time to take the first picture, before he rediscovers the "frog pond" (see 2nd picture). He emerges as ever covered in smelly water and duckweed, mush to the exasperation of poor Diamond.

Do we re-instate the "asbo", we ask?

Deefs

Attempted Murder

Attempted Murder! That's what Mum is accusing me of re the incident of the male doggy who fell in the pond in the middle of the night. What a suggestion!

Meanwhile, we all met Ellie yesterday on our way back from a walk in the park, and very beautiful she looks too. Well recovered, after 2 weeks, from her spay.

Today, our first chance to ride in Dad's new car. We are all off to visit the Pud-Lady in Hastings, and we are stopping off at the Firehills in Fairlight en route. See also http://www.wildhastings.org.uk/reserves/hcp.aspx . This is a great place for dogs - and we meet lots of friendy ones who all want to race about with us. Especially little Charlie, the Jack Russell pictured here, with whom I was especially taken. There is a suggestion that I am a tart. How rude!

Now, back home, Mum and Dad have picked all the greengages and jam is being made. Very "Good Life"

Have a great weekend

Deefer

Total Immersion

Sper-LOSH! The humans are instantly aroused from their dozing on the terrace drinking coffee and Calvados after supper in the warm evening. "Grab a towel" says Dad, racing towards the sound I've just made falling in, and hauling me out, covered in duckweed. "Bl***y Muppet" says Mum (no sympathy there then).

Look I tell you -it's a hot evening and this is just part of my exercise routine. Run up and down the garden a few times, beat up Haggis, then scamper round and round the rim wall of the small (Mum says "Italianate") rectangular pond, then (even though I haven't voluntarily leapt into water since the goose pond at Leybourne Lakes) dive in. I meant to do it... honest

Gonzo

Ice on the Pond

A hard frost overnight, so the morning is full of the sounds of Dad scaping ice off both cars, and then shuffling them on the drive, so that he could take the 2CV, and leave Mum the "proper" car. The garden is white with rime and like a winter wonderland. Mum is clutching a coffee and we all race off down the garden. She comes to the top of the steps and sees me nosing this strange hard crust on the big pond.

"It's Ice, Deef. Don't go onto it or you'll go through". OK thinks me, and scurry back up the steps, but then curosity gets the better of me and I just go and have another look. Mum describes it afterwards to Dad - "All I heard was this quiet pinging crack of ice being broken and suddenly Deefer came scurrying back up the garden with a wet paw and a very worried look. "I told you if you stood on it, you'd go through!" A good lesson learned. Haggis tells me that in past winters it has frozen solidly enough for him to walk across, especially when snow disguises the pond's location

Oh - and just in case anyone was getting over-confident about me having not poo'd indoors for a fortnight. You spoke too soon! Come see what I've done on the landing!. When Dad tells old-Dad, he exclaims that exactly the same has happened to Archie (my bro'). A fortnight - everyone thinking "we've turned a corner"... then Ooops! An accident on the landing.

Still a pup, what ever you say!

Deefer

Real "Brushing" ; a second swim

Amazing co-incidence. There I was yesterday, chatting about blow-dries and poshe dog grooming in la France. Today I acheived a goal that I've been trying for, for weeks. In the garden here, there's a low brick wall making a rectangle, about 5 courses high-no more. A small pup can stand on her hind legs and peer up to look over the top, just, but not jump over.

Or she couldn't. With the Angel Betty round today to let us all out for a pit-stop, I was mooching around, as one does. Then when she wasn't looking properly I "mooched" over to this wall and had a go at leppin' up and over it. To my amazement, I suddenly could. To my amazement, the top of the wall was only 4 inches wide, which is not a lot of distance for a speeding westie to stop in. To my amazement the rectangle held a rather weedy, overgrown, duck-weed infested pond!!! Suddenly I was paddling about and swimming between the pickerel weed and goosefoot, the duckweed and waterlily. It was cold and wet! Green with duckweed and soggy with black mud. I squeaked for help, but Betty was already running my way

So, to cut a long story short, with the boss away, I was suddenly, having my first bath, in Dad's "Belfast sink" - warm water, shampoo, Uncle Jim holding me and Angel Betty doing the honours. Even got a blow-dry, Jim holding me while Betty brushed and held the hair dryer. So now I am fragrant, white, fluffy and gorgeous, and in disgrace at the same time!

Betty has apparently taken some photos of me covered in duck weed, so I'll post those when she sends them.

More tomorrow. By the way, If you're reading this and having a laugh, please do say so. I sometimes feel that I'm writing these blogs into a black hole, read by no-one. It would be good to know that one or two out there are enjoying them

Deefer