Vermin and Wildlife

It's pretend spring in England: a few days of t-shirt weather and a sunburn, then we wake up to snow. The animals are sanguine about it as I run around dumping straw and hay for them in the morning, finishing in time for the snow to melt in the afternoon. Eh. The good news is the snow makes the grass grow better; bad news is that it caught my plum tress in full blossom, so it's probably a second year of no crop for me.

This is also the time of year that we get a lot of calls from farmers. New lambs are vulnerable to foxes and crows so we're asked to deal with any that are attacking the flocks. Canada geese and rabbits are eating the new shoots needed for cattle which will be turned out to pasture in a couple of weeks' time. Trout fisherman want the geese gone as they stir up mud in the fishing lakes. The woodsmen are planting new trees so please could I trap the squirrels around new plantations?

Fenn traps are quick and effective. Even quicker when I get them by the head.

Vermin control is a big part of the gamekeeper's job, but a thinking person and a nature lover doesn't take a "scorched earth" approach to wildlife. By targeting just the foxes that are taking lambs or geese eating the crops, we keep the farmers happy without leaving a vacuum that incomers will fill. Vermin are only vermin when they're causing a nuisance, otherwise we leave them in peace.

We divide up the work among the team. The underkeepers manage problem foxes. I manage squirrel trapping. Volunteers who like to shoot and haven't access to their own land are put in touch with farmers to take care of rabbit population build-ups and pockets of squirrels too far away from my trap lines.

All the keepers shoot the Canada geese, and my job is to retrieve and butcher them. Most of it gets fed to the dogs as we get so many geese, and one can only face eating so much strong wild goose meat.

I retrieve a few geese pretty much every day now. We try and disturb them too much to sit on eggs. Once goslings start coming, we leave them alone. Killing the parent bird could cause the gosling to suffer and die.

Spud and Quincy are my Go-To goose girls. They both love swimming and they're big enough to manage a goose, which is a pretty hefty bird, especially dead weight and water-logged. Here's Spud in action-

(You might want to watch it with the sound off. I talk to my dogs too much. My trainer tells me off for it.)

This morning the boys sent me for two geese on the trout lake. As an experiment I brought Gertie the spaniel, with Quincy as my back-up. Gertie loves water and her swimming has improved. She might like retrieving a goose. Well, Gertie found it and brought it as far as the reeds but, as I guessed, it was just to big for her to manoeuvre out of the water. Quincy finished the job but credit goes to both dogs-

One goose was badly wounded, and it was definitely a "big dog" job to swim out and get it, as it would thrash and fight back. -

When I came home Molly was waiting for me on the stairs with this, like "I'm a good retriever too!"

You are, Molly, but you don't like water. Still, points for wrestling that pillow into submission, and looking very sweet.

It's cold and raining today but the birdsong is constant so spring must be coming. House sparrows and blackbirds are fighting territory wars that Games of Thrones would be proud of. Mike has just come in for a cup of tea and lit the Rayburn because he said "The dogs look cold". The dogs. Molly and Miss Betty, sat on fleece beds at my feet, both snoring. .

I guess I'd better go butcher those geese and cook up some pheasant eggs, so my cold dogs can have a hot lunch. Mike can have sandwiches.

Our horses, Kitty & Sam

How about an update on the horses? You know Kitty, but you haven't met Sam.

Sam the day I brought him home, hairy and dusty, just off the mountain.

I bought Sam last February. A Welsh Trekking centre closed down and was selling its trail riding horses. Sam is 23 years old, which is pretty senior for a horse, but about the same age as Kitty. He's still fit and sound after his trekking work, but ready for a quieter retirement. I felt Kitty should have a companion and Sam seemed a good choice.

Sam four months later after a little extra TLC

Sam is great under saddle and, being a little shorter than Kitty, it's easier for me to hop on and off on a ride to open gates or move logs blocking a path. I'm also getting a bit senior and my flexibility isn't what it was. He's a hardy native breed - a Fell cross - and his passported name is Black Sam, though the years have turned his face and neck grey. Grey hair is just something else we have in common.

Like all native horses, he can be cheeky. We saddled up for our first ride - Kitty and Mike, Sam and me. I stood on a mounting block and got ready to throw my leg over Sam. He quietly stepped sideways out of reach, looked at me, and just pushed me ever so gently with his nose off the mounting block! All I could do was laugh. It was kind of endearing. The second try I mounted without a problem but I took his comment on board. We had a pleasant walk in the woods suitable for a retiree.

Saddled up for our first ride

As a trekking horse in a commercial situation, Sam had to pull his weight and there wasn't always extra funds for vet visits. He came to me with a bad case of leg mites, and thrush in his hind feet. His teeth are worn where he's had to graze whatever he can find at times. With the vets' and the farrier's help, we are on top of these problems and he's feeling much better. It will take some time to get one of his hind feet back into a proper length and shape, but remedial trimming should have it fixed by summer.

Sam's only issue is that he doesn't like having his feet picked up, which makes it difficult to examine and trim his feet. The vets sedated him in order to carry out a good investigation of his foot.. We now know that Sam needs a lower dose next time

The vets were already visitng to check on Kitty's progress and take another scan of her knee.

Just before Christmas, I went to feed the horses their grain. Kitty was reluctant to move and, when she did, she snorted and bunny-hopped in a panic. Of course this was a Sunday night, in a field with no lights or buildings, and it was getting dark. I called the out-of-hours emergency vet. We needed to get her heart rate down and relieve the pain as a first step.

The emergency vet did as best an assessment as possible under the circumstances. We loaded her with painkillers and sedatives, and covered her in a warm horse blanket to see her though the night.

After a few vet visits, x-rays and MRI scans of her stifle (back leg, knee joint), the vets could find nothing obvious except for some arthritis. The vets feel there was some "trauma", possibly slipping in mud, or taking a corner at a canter wrong. "Nothing catastrophic" in her joint was the final assessment. But poor Kitty was still lame, and guarding her stifle. All we could do was support her own ability to heal with anti-inflammatories, time, and patience.

I'm happy to report that she has come almost totally sound now, and the vets predict she will be rideable again. During her healing, I found her often lying down with Sam grazing nearby. She never laid down when she was on her own, which can be a sign of insecurity. It was one of the reasons I looked for a companion for her. She deserves to nap in her dotage. I think Sam came at just the right time. Of course it may have been the fact that the two of them career around the field and play that caused the initial trauma!

The vets struggled to get a good picture of Kitty's stifle joint because she has "fat knees". Poor Kitty. That is just adding insult to injury.

Kitty weathers her sedatives well, relaxing and sometimes having a little snore while the vets repeat the MRI scan -

She's muddy and hairy from a winter off, and will have the spring to continue recovering, grazing fresh grass and getting fatter knees.

Sam had his sedation and exam after Kitty. It took the two vets and me to keep him from falling over while they examined his feet. He was 900lbs of roofied horse, listing like a small boat in a storm. Kitty stood by Sam while he came out of his sedation, keeping watch and giving him a bit of comfort.

Sam stood like that for nearly an hour!

I think they're good for each other..

Some Nice Things About Small Town Life

When I go to the village hairdresser, I can bring Miss Betty. While I wait for the hair dye to work on my greys, Faith gives Miss Betty her haircut-

A little off the top

Happy to lay on her back and have her belly trimmed

That was all me!

Mike and all the underkeepers go to Faith for their group haircuts en masse, after summer is over and it's time to look smart for the shooting season. Even the bosses have their hair cut by Faith.

When Faith was looking for another dog, we found her a pup. She owns Hadley Bubbles brother, Oscar.

There's some nice things about living in a small town.

Under Construction

This time last year, we were still shovelling ourselves out from under a record snowfall. This year we've had record high temperatures and a couple weeks without much rainfall. Our heavy clay soil is dry enough to get big machines and tractors on it, and to start some bigger projects.

Project no 1:  Mike's new poly tunnels-

Gertie is looking for the pheasants already 

Mike and six helpers with a telescopic handling machine put them up in a couple of days. I was surprised how straightforward they are to put up.

We acquired them from local fruit farmers when they upgraded their equipment. The tunnels are getting a new lease of life as a pheasant shelter. It will help protect the laying hens against extreme weather and rain while we keep them penned in and collect their eggs.

We're trialling it on the coldest, wettest part of the laying field. If it is successful, we will cover the rest of the pens next year.

Project no 2: The estate has also put some stone and hardcore around our barns on the laying field. The big trucks were getting stuck in the mud trying to deliver pheasant food. Now there's hard standing, a clean path to the pheasant sheds and plumbed in water - no more buckets!!

The work was done by a proper construction company but, as it's a small village, the guys in charge of the construction work are also in my shooting syndicate and drink at the pub where I work. I know their wives and they know what I look like in my pyjamas ( I wasn't getting dressed just to bring them a cup of coffee!)

The photo is of the "before" and I did a little video of the "after" this morning.

When I refer to "sheds" I mean the broody huts we use to raise young pheasants under heat

Project no 3: While the construction guys were here, they kindly levelled my old pig enclosure for me.

Oh yes, last year we got our first pigs (Spoiler Alert - they are already in the freezer)

We bought six 12 week old weaners: Mangalitza x Gloucester Old Spot. We wanted them to root up and kill (or at least weaken) an ever-expanding patch of bamboo. Then we wanted to eat them.

We didn't have a pig ark but went to a local food factory and picked up a giant plastic barrel used to ship concentrated orange juice. It's there in the background of the photo. It worked great filled with straw bedding as a temporary pig house.

The six pigs were owned cooperatively; Mike and I bought one, and other workers and families on the estate bought the others to share. Each paid the cost of the weaner, one sixth of the feed, and one sixth of the slaughter and butchery charges. We fed and cared for them while they proceeded to decimate the invasive bamboo in our garden. And everyone ended up with plenty of outdoor-reared delicious pork for their freezers.

Oh yes, so, the construction guys levelled the now rooted and mostly bamboo-free pig area with their machines and added some top soil for good measure -

Instant garden!

I checked with our agronomist and I can go ahead and plant straight into the soil, no worries about illness or disease from the pigs. I'll be using half of the area this season to grow my courgettes, pumpkins, and some cut flowers. It's doubled the size of my vegetable plot so now my squashes can run wild and unhampered. Well, unhampered if I can keep the dogs and rabbits from eating them.

I've already bought most of my seeds for this season and drawn up a rough plan, which I can expand to fill the new space.

Mike just told me that rain and strong winds are on their way tomorrow. I let the horned ewe and baby out of the barn and into a grass pen in the garden, just after I made the video, to get them both grazing.

I think that they will be going back into the barn later, until the worst of it passes.

It feels like spring but it's not. Not yet.

What's been happening with the sheep this week.

My horned ewe did lamb a couple hours after I posted. She popped out a nice healthy ewe lamb, unassisted. The good news is the ewe lamb is a pure Horned Dorset; the sad news is she will replace her mother who has severe mastitis and will have to be culled. I'm grateful to have a replacement with excellent breeding.

I bottle feed the lamb four times a day as the ewe isn't producing any milk. But the ewe is an excellent mother otherwise, and being together makes them both happy. I'm just the lady that holds the bottle.

They are the only pair left in the barn. I moved the 5 ewes and 9 lambs from our orchard to a bigger field with fresh grazing.

A majority of the ewes in my flock are now related to my horned ram, so I'm looking for a new ram, probably a polled (hornless) one with the right breeding. I still have Bertram the Friesian, but at the moment he is on thin ice with me.

Bertram likes the ladies. It doesn't matter if they're mine or my neighbours'. And Bertram, with his long dairy sheep legs, can jump a lot of the fences. I often get calls from the neighbours to say Bertram is visiting, wooing their sheep. Thankfully, all the ewes he's managed to reach have already been pregnant, and all my neighbours have seen the funny side of it. Probably because Bertram is very personable.

Bertram now waits for me to show up in the trailer with a bucket of grain to give him a lift home after his night out carousing.

I am literally an Uber for a sheep.

He recognises the Land Rover and wanders over. I get out and give him a pat, and usually some lame speech like "Where do you think you've been, You treat this house like a hotel", etc. Bertram doesn't even have the decency to look contrite. He just walks straight in the trailer and eats his breakfast.

The farmers don't bother to hide their laughter now. They are laughing down the phone when they call me to tell me Bertram's escaped again.

I've put him back in with the goats, where the fences are a bit higher and there are some of my ewes (already pregnant) to keep him happy. I love Bertram but he's an arse.

Dropped off in the goat paddock, striding out to see the ladies.

It was market day today, so I got up early and loaded up my last four castrated ram lambs to sell. I'm still very new to the workings of the market, but I'm of the "fake it til you make it" school, and I just get behind guys who look like they know what they're doing, and copy them.

Once unloaded, you make your way forward, towards the weigh scales, shutting the pens as you funnel forwards -

We're waiting our turn at the weigh scales - a big platform where an average weight of similar sized lambs is taken -

As you can see, I had one slightly smaller. They mark him with an "A" but sell him in the same pen. I don't know what the A stands for, but I will find out and let you know. 

I got back from market and gathered 19 of my ewes that were "on tack" - winter grazing on a field used for cattle in spring -  and gave them a quick health check, foot trim, and a dose of wormer based on the vet's advice. 

The barn is so useful for basic sheep work.

They don't love it, but I think the ewes look way more appreciative of my help than Bertram does.

Once tended to, I loaded them up for the short journey to the new field shared with the mums and lambs.

The new trailer holds our whole flock - it's a double decker!

Now I get to tend to the really fun part: the paperwork.

Our New Butchery

This might be kind of a dull post, but there are pictures of cute lambs at the end of it. You can just skip ahead.

This year, we built a butchery to process and sell our game direct to consumers. I'm sharing this because I think it's important to remember that game birds are food, not targets. We wouldn't put a single pheasant on the ground if this was not true. 

We spoke to the local planners and standards officers about setting up our own butchery. We have a hatching room which we use in the summer to hatch and sort chicks, but it was empty in the winter. Would that be suitable, with a bit of upgrading? Turns out it would, which dropped the set-up costs significantly as we didn't have to rent a premises or build something new.

We have a talented estate maintenance team - Stu and Andrej - and between them they clad the walls, put up the plastic curtain barrier, installed sinks, and painted the floor. Mike already had stainless steel tables, and sundries like knives and vacuum packers we acquired over the season, which is only 1 October through 1 February for us. 

The food safe wall covering going on

The curtain to separate the butchery from our hatchers and the entrance

The finished room 

The market for game is uncertain, made worse by the insecurity of Brexit. No one can predict what it will mean for exported meat. The estate owners here were not comfortable shooting birds if there was no steady market for the meat. The butchery was our answer, and it works well for shoots of our size. (Very large or very small shoots probably need different solutions.)

A week's worth of shot game, ready to fill our orders

Via word of mouth and return custom, we sold out, all season long. We sold to pubs, local butchers, direct to people who picked up their orders on site (which is extra nice - being able to open you premises for inspection). We even filled a last minute order for a film company making a movie, who were desperate for rabbits skinned and in the fur. 

Feather and fur need to be kept separate until butchering, so I gave over one of my house fridges to the rabbit orders. 

Meat that didn't make the grade, i.e. it was too bruised or perhaps had a tear from being retrieved, we minced up and sold as dog food. Raw feeding is popular, so legs and carcases were in demand too.

Our deer stalker has a separate butchery, and we passed business back and forth between us. He took our pheasants to Fortnum & Mason in London, a very prestigious food hall which also stocks his fallow venison. We sold his venison liver - it was our best seller.

I won't bore you too much with this project. We were glad that it turned out to be a profitable addition to the shooting business, and we plan to invest in it a bit more next year. There's a sausage maker and commercial grade mincer on our shopping list. In our first season, we managed to wear out two domestic vac packing machines before we bought a more commercial one, and it's holding up great.

I'm especially pleased that all the pheasant and partridge we supply were once an egg laid on a field near the house, hatched in the barn, raised and released within a few miles radius, shot and butchered in the barn, and sold direct. Few food miles, complete trace-ability, and a very affordable product: boneless pheasant breasts are 65p each, a brace of partridge crowns is £2, whole oven ready rabbits £1.50 each. 

OK, how about some cute lamb photos now?

Ewes and lambs in the orchard

Friendly lamb no 5

Moose and her new ewe lamb, Squirrel

There are 9 lambs so far. Six ewes have lambed, two are still to give birth. My other horned ewe has started to make her birthing nest, and her sides have gone hollow so there should be another birth today. I have some of last year's lambs to trim up now, and I'll select out the biggest ram lambs to take to market on Monday. Fingers crossed the prices stay high another week!

Storm Eric

We've been battling rain and strong winds here in the UK, but lambing goes on. Five ewes have lambed now, and I have 4 ewe lambs and 4 ram lambs (and no more lamb casualties!) I've put the next batch of pregnant ewes in the barn ready to lamb. This morning, it was looking pretty crowded in there-

If I turfed the families out into the icy rain and winds earlier, the ewes would use up energy keeping warm that they need to produce milk. The lambs struggle to stay warm in the wet, more so than in the cold. In the barn there is protection from the elements, plus an all-day hay and grain buffet.

Pasture is as limited as I've ever known it. Every farmer is utilising every corner where grass is growing. Our neighbour usually lets me have a small paddock this time of year, but he's been just as desperate and needed to keep it for his rams.

So, my ewes are now grazing the lawn-

The rain broke this morning so, after chores, I set up a fenced area in the orchard and let four of the ewes out to graze with their lambs. It gives the ewes access to the hedges too, with a mix of plants like ivy and willow, which ewes seem to nibble as a tonic or medication.

Ewe 0007, a first time mother, is still a bit confused and unsure about motherhood. She only has one lamb to cope with, not the usual twins. But, to give her time to strengthen her bond with her baby, I have left her penned in the barn with the yet-to-lamb ewes. I will probably bring a dog to her pen later, which can sometimes kickstart the maternal instincts to protect. I'm sure it will be fine in time, then she can join the others in the orchard.

Around 4pm is when the lambs get playful and I will try and take a video to post - it's very therapeutic watching lamb zoomies.

I'm also being watched while I type this.

Hey Enrique.

The turkeys and chickens are free-ranging again, now that the vegetable garden is fallow. They have been stripping the last of the kale and turning it into lovely eggs with a deep orange yolk. A perfect use for kale after months of eating it ourselves.

We added an extra turkey to the flock too. After raising a few for family, the freezer, and the shoot's Christmas Jumper Competition (first prize, oven ready), Mike pardoned the last hen turkey and she's joined the Narragansett turkeys. This turkey is big and white and ungainly as she free-ranges. I keep calling her Christmas Dinner Turkey. She probably needs a better name,

The bad weather was a good excuse for staying in and reading through seed catalogues. I think it's one of the best ways to spend a dark, wet winter afternoon. I ordered my seeds this morning and if the winds die down, I will continue cleaning out the greenhouse and getting ready for the new growing season.