The tale of sad birds and sorry dogs

The pheasant season has finished. On Wednesday we ‘cleared up’ in continuous rain and fog. The woodland was atmospheric, to say the least. There were many comments about jungles and mangrove forests. The moss on the trees and rocks was so bright, that it shone in the gloominess of the woods. The streams were flowing thanks to the abundant rain and it all looked rather magical.

The dogs worked their little paws off. There weren’t many beating dogs so all of them had to sprint around in order to find the birds. Fred the dog worked so hard that I couldn’t take a clear photo of him hence the smudge at the bottom of the image.

And he paid for his effort. Later that evening his tail stopped wagging and his back seized up. He literally ‘overwagged’ it. With the tail limp and his muscles clearly aching he felt properly sorry for himself.

Add that to the ailing cockerel who wouldn’t come out of the coop or even crow inside it and you have a proper animal hospital.

I asked about the cockerel. After all, one of the advantages of spending time with ‘country folk’ on the shoots is that many of them really know about chickens and stuff. One advice (whether serious or not) was ‘put the bird in a box, give him some water and sit him in front of the fire to cheer him up; he is probably under the weather.’ So that’s exactly what I did. The following day he rewarded me with a mighty crow at six o’clock and as is standing outside looking after his hens as we speak.

As for my patient number two, he received a tiny dose of painkiller and a giant supply of reiki and yesterday was able to sleep in his usual ‘look, my back is flexible again’ position.

So all is well again. img_1009r

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