Monday, 20 November 2017

Spinning Top

I have begun to feel a bit better recently. Less vertigo, occasional dizzy spells generally feeling a bit spaced out most of the time (what’s new?) . . . sort of drunk without the fun really. As my energy levels have also improved my mood has shifted from despair through frustration and anger arriving now at determination. So I will push on no matter what and beat this malady. Which is all well and good but . . .

My dogs; Elgar and Turner are Border Terrier Poodle crosses. They love unconditionally, are intelligent, are good with other dogs and have more energy than EDF. They are surprisingly fast and will chase anything over great distances until they are literally dots on the horizon. At times they can be a handful (like when the Tesco delivery man comes) but they are my constant companions and I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are also a great motivator for helping me to overcome this vertigo malarkey by getting me out walking every morning and evening.

A week or so ago it was our regular morning walk at Salthouse. It was 7:30 on a grey gusty morning and as I parked the car to let dogs out I could see that the combination of a high tide and a strong wind was washing the North Sea over the sea defences. Huge ‘Turner-esk’ clouds were rolling in and it began to rain. “Looking ominous” I thought and revised our normal walk to a simple circular route out and over the marshes to and along the defences for half a mile then back over the marshes joining the footpath over the fields, returning to Salthouse.

The marshes were almost completely flooded. The water on the footpath came up to the tops of my wellies and slowed the dogs’ progress as they half walked/ half swam alongside me. “This is crazy” I thought “I really should turn back” but then my determination got the better of me and drove me on “No I am going to beat this illness and get better. This walk is just a challenge that I need to meet along the way”.

The sea defences at Salthouse are banks of shingle that rise sharply about twenty five feet above the marshes and slope down on the other side naturally into the sea. Some days they take on a ‘Canute’ character and this was one such day. As we struggled off the flood plane and clambered up the shingle I could see how rough the sea was. The waves were crashing just below the very top of the defences sending stones clattering down to the marshes. Remind me whose idea was this?

As we forged ahead, with me trying to ensure the dogs didn’t get washed away in the surf, I was deep in thought considering the possibilities for the headlines in the Eastern Daily Press the following day:

‘Dog lost in rough sea’
‘Two dogs lost in rough sea’
‘Dog walker lost in rough sea leaving two dogs homeless’
‘Dog walker and two dogs lost in rough sea’

And at that point a Hare tuned up out of nowhere right in front of us. Yes a Hare as in ‘a fast-running, long-eared mammal that resembles a large rabbit, having very long hind legs and typically found in grassland or open woodland’ .
So why was it here for Petes’ sake?
According to Fergus Collins who is the editor of Countryfile Magazine - In order to get full nutritional value out of its grass and herb food, a hare must pass it through its system twice – it eats its own droppings. This method is known as refrection. It also means that the animals spend less time out in the open grazing and can do some of their secondary ‘eating’ in safe hideaways. Rather than thinking it was a safe place to eat his own pooh I think Hares live on the Marshes feeding off the grasses there and this one was simply stranded on the shingle between the flooded marshes and the sea.
Fergus goes on to tell us that The main predators of hares are foxes, weasels, stoats, polecats, buzzards and golden eagles . . .and today my dogs!  And Fergus reliably informs us that Hares have been recorded running at up to 72kmh (45mph) to escape danger.

Still stunned at discovering the Hare I just stood and watched in a haze as the dogs also noticed our long eared friend. It was like the start of the 3:30 at Kempton. Usain Bolt would have had trouble keeping up, so dizzy Nick in wellies on a shingle bank had no chance. But they wouldn’t catch it, would give up and come trotting back in due course. I was more concerned about them getting swept away in the waves than catching anything.
But I watched them continue to pursue the Hare . . . and gain on it. They were working as a pair; Elgar above and now slightly beyond the Hare and Turner swimming along below in the flooded marsh forming a pincer movement. And they caught it! . . .
After scrambling around I eventually caught up with them all and from there on in it was a bit like the Battle for Stalingrad. One dog barking the other yelping, the Hare screeching, the rain now lashing down in bucket loads, waves crashing over the defences and me shouting utterly futile commands while desperately trying to remain upright.
Each time I got hold of one dog it would open up an escape route for the Hare thus resuming the chase for the remaining dog. What a nightmare. Eventually I got hold of both the dogs.

The Hare, like me had seen better days but was OK.

BTW A male hare is called a Jack, a female is a Jill.

1 comment:

  1. Now I've read the whole story you told me on Saturday!

    ReplyDelete

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