Arrival and Departure

July 4th began with the speedy arrival of William, after a very rapid labour! Of which more elsewhere. Mother and new son were  safely ensconced in their own bed with Father and Hugh dancing  attendance so I made a quick get away and after defeating the M40 arrived home safely.

My house sitter greeted me with the news that "Pearly", no longer a tiny runt but a socking great fat pig was unwell. Coaxing her out of the sty with a banana I realised that things were indeed serious and the vet was summoned.
Hannah duly arrived and after painkillers were administered  and Pearly still could not walk, probably due to a slipped disc we decided that the gun was the only humane answer.

The dreadful deed was duly carried out and her remains were dispatched, at great expense, to be cremated.

Duchess was not desolate, rather an unfeeling mother,  but clearly as time passed she was lonely. Pigs are family animals and solitude is not a good way of life.
After some time I located a young gilt, a teenage female  pig not a million miles away and she was duly installed in the field. It was hate at first sight, as she was chased round the field and after several attempts to bite her, I reluctantly made up an alternative comfy bed in the adjacent stable. Several days passed, the nights got colder and finally I peeped in late one night and they were tucked up together keeping each other snug and warm. So, all's well that ends well..

Hare today, none tomorrow

Sadly, since the practice of harvesting the grass thrice yearly for barn reared cows was instigated in Crowcroft, hares have virtually disappeared. The leverets are macerated by the mower, so it was with regret that I received a beautiful, cleanly killed hare at my feet from my triumphant lurcher Ruby last week. She ran it down over the maize stubble as it was being harvested last week.  I told her she was a very clever girl rather sadly and fervently wished it had been a rabbit, of which there only too many.  Ditto  the squirrels which jump from the walnut tree onto the roof every morning, landing with a clatter above my head. Their idea of sharing the walnuts does not coincide with mine.  Ruby did manage to eliminate one by imitating a statue under the silver birch, motionless for a whole morning. The rather indecisive squirrel finally decided she was in fact not alive and finally descended to the speedy jaws of death. Ruby can move with astounding speed when so inclined.