Poaching stories

[poacher3161 1,766]

lol.

[Guest long-tail]

lol.

remember my old man would play that when i was kid,good to see the old fella laughing specialy as we were soft southerners,still hungary mind ..............

[poacher3161 1,766]

lol.

remember my old man would play that when i was kid,good to see the old fella laughing specialy as we were soft southerners,still hungary mind ..............

The man who did the recording was very funny in real life and Billy Connely once said he was one of the funnyist men he had met he was also a mate of D.B.Plummers but also a piss head wich eventualy affected his health.atb dell

[Guest long-tail]

remember my old man would play that when i was kid,good to see the old fella laughing specialy as we were soft southerners,still hungary mind ..............

The man who did the recording was very funny in real life and Billy Connely once said he was one of the funnyist men he had met he was also a mate of D.B.Plummers but also a piss head wich eventualy affected his health.atb dell

my old man was the oldest of 5 kids and the only one im aware of that hunted,shot,poached call it what you will,never had feck all growing up but they ate like kings, Edited December 31, 2011 by long-tail

[whin 463]

after meeting plummer you would be apiss head him and burrel on the one day ahah

[border lad 1,047]

It was back in 1971 we were doing the M6 motorway from Caterlen roundabout to Carlisle section, Lord LONDSDALE GROUND, MY BITCH TINKER, collie/whippetx greyhound, she could do her job from the road, hunt a field like a springer spaniel, catch her quarry and carry back up to the van, this night making our way back to the caravan site, I am passing by this stubble field, I said to the rest of the gang, there will be a Hare in there for certain, I stop the van ( transit,) pull onto the grass verge, facing the stubble field, I get Tinker, tell her to get over, she is hunting very well, all off sudden I saw her tail start to go round like a windmill

and I said there is a Hare there, next the Hare Jumps, about 20 Yards from Her, well Tinker puts up a very good show,a couple of the LADS ARE STANDING UP ON THE VAN, and the rest of us are standing up on the fence, Just then a Landrover comes flying up to us, the game keeper, and then I hear the familiar squeell, I give him the story we are doing the Blacktop on the motorway, and the dog has been lying in the van all day and I just stopped to let her clean her self oot, as I am talking to him she is carrying back the Hare to me at the van, the field had been fenced with new pig netting, courtesey of the motorway going through, she nosed the Hare through the netting, jumped the fence herself and then carried the Hare to me, well He said you have it Bloody well trained, any way I said to him Look a have a ten bob note on me, take that for a drink, and forget this problem, he took the 10 bob note, and lifted the bloody Hare as well, I got off very light, we worked on that section from Shap to Penrith section + the above section and I can assure you she filled our pot daily, from Pheasant, rabbit, and Hare, and I used to take my 12 bore shotgun with me as well, Lurcher and Gun, and catridges lying in the van, earning top money nd able to enjoy my Hobbie, now they were the days,

[BIGLURKS 874]

This topic has brought back so many off my own memories i had forgotten about so I'll put one up

 

When we were Kids and this was not even that long ago maybe 15 years or some thing like that me and my pals that are still the same pals today were the right ruff ones off are small little town not the ones hanging out on the corners but the ones that were always up too making money scheme well we came up with the great idea off selling rabbits for a living we were 10 ofcourse some great plans we had well all we used too have was a ferret a jack russel and 2 spaniels and some nets and we used too go every were well we ended up going past the local estate on are bikes and passed a field that had let's say 50 rabbits in and we were in are element buzzing with excitement with are new plan too become rich so off we went me and my pal knocking on are other pals door telling him we have found the mother load now thinking back it was prob not the best idea asking one of my pals too come cos he was and still is abit of a smart ass so of we goo ferret In pocket dogs following us on are bikes nets in the school bag right up too this field that we kinda knew we were not alowed on but we said f**k it know one can see is up here so off we march done all the burrows and ended up with about 12 rabbits so we thinking yes 12 pound and what were all going too do with are 4 pound that we just made and up rolls this landrover at the gate were are bikes are so we all start walking slow at this point trying too think how we getting out off this one and my pal the smart ass said don't worry I'll sort it out just follow me so of we walk me and my trying too think what this git is going too say so he walks straight up too the motor and the old keeper pops he's head out the window and says right lads put the rabbits in the back off the motor and be on ur way I seen u all coming up here 4 hours ago so me and my pal look at the smart ass pal in a big stare as if too say give him the rabbits so he turns round and says u do realise my father owns this land u ignorant fool in some posh acsent as if he is fooling any one well too top it off it dint help that me and my pal were rolling about on the floor laughing till we could not breath so out this old boy gets with stick in hand and gave us a good boot up the arse for being cheeky so he sends us off no rabbits and a sore ass we did eventually get are revenge on that old boy but that's a dif story

[Ellis Blain 29]

have only ever really been chased twice (only been hunting for around 18 months??) both scary times the scaryest being..

 

had plans with the lads to meet up by a shop near mine then head over to the farmers fields about a mile or so away. after waiting an good half hour i phoned them and nu-supriseingly they all couldnt come.. so i was there with the lamp and dogs on my own an thought fack it why not? anyway got through a few fields and had about 3 bunnys over my shoulder crossed a few fields with nothing on and decided to head off in a diffrant direction than is normally done. i ended up in the middle of this big green field so had a shine of the lamp starting right swinging left, as i was half way across the field i noticed something big glow up (car reg) then a big light and a bang. i just froze and turned the lamp off thinking what chall i do haha i just seen the lights come on and start roaring towards me. so i ran over the other field not expecting the car to come plowing through the hedge.. witch it did.. after running straight across fields putting distance between me and the car as it had to take paths i took cover deep in some woods. i sat there for about 20 mins then come out the other side. a jeep was there but i thought it had nothing to do with it as it was a car chasing me! its lights come on and he come towards me fast. so i doved back in the woods running through big thorn bush's for about 30 mins finnaly i hit another field and foot path witch i recognised. so i decided to sit there for about 3 hours till the sun came up before i made a move! never got in till about 7 in the morning still shaking haha!! apparently tho the man who owns the field is ment to be ok? maybe he was just in a bad mood that night haha!!

 

ellis.

[bandog 52]

Am new to hunting and ain't had a Chase with the dogs yet lol what will happen when they catch you coz i aint no runner ill get 100mtr and they get me any way so I just lernt to handle my self plus if they just plan on givin me a beating I can handle that but u can lose your dogs can't you ? ....as I don't really have running dogs and just bulls would I get away with the old i aint hunting am on a dog walk with a high powered torch lol my dogs not on a slip her lead broke that's why she chased that fox .....??

 

 

My mate was out not hunting but taking a short cut though a farm the farmer came out asked what ur doing on my land ect ....he replyed in the whorse french accent in the world me no english forgetting he had a tattoo on his arm in full veiw sayin made in england and the old British bull sitting next to quote ....he never told us what happened after then

[whin 463]

all sorts all depends what youre game harvesting , and were ,its something if youre not brought up into it hard to learn and harder to persevere , losing dogs fines cars can be a step back so be careful yeras ago they never had the powers and well they had more to do in some areas

[bandog 52]

It woukd be funny to see them take the dog in my pic lol

[dav105e 3]

Went out tonight and as we were going through a field a truck appeared so we all got behind a hedge and the truck had a little drive about then went. Anyway done another couple of fields and got to the last 1 and let my bitch on a run, as we were doing that the same bloody truck came down towards us, now I'm thinking f**k my bitch. We got in the hedgerow me and my bro were about 20 feet away from the other two that were with us. The truck pulled in a gap in the field and sat there. All I heard from my mate was Dave they got your dog, well I started walking towards them and said well I'm getting her back when they started laughing and my other mate appeared out the bush and said what this one. b*****ds lol

[THLpatrick 555]

Never had a chase as yet from hunting because aint been in the hunting game long, what i have experienced when it came to farmers is one time with a friend and another with my little brother.

 

Me and My little brother where on a walk with me mum and dad and our old dod, just a dumb loopy springer spaniel, and well you've all seen them hay bails stacked up to ridicules heights that you have to go and climb, so me and niall set off running towards the bails sprinting like mad as mum and dad said ''go on we'll time you'' so off we go laughing and giggling towards the bails which was honestly around a half a mile, (baring in mind im 9 and he's 6) get to the bails and here me old fella balling, LEG IT THE FARMER, being the protective older sibling i grab my brother jacket and start pulling him, we had literately arrived at the bails 10seconds before we seen the red pick-up truck, shitting myself as i see the truck approaching the end of the path and onto the field, i said to niall, ''niall can you run faster if i let go?''stupidly he replied yes and with that i left him for dead with my mum and dad watching, turn back and see the truck right up my brothers arse nearly at the end of the field we here the horn going and the pick up cuts him off, farmer comes around with me little brother with the biggest grin on his face and said, ''fecking ell thort id atleast catch the littlin,he just didnt stop'' he then explained he thought we where lads who had been setting the bails on fire and was coming to bladder us but as he approached and seen the size carried on the chase for the fun of things, i now do work for this farmer when ever he needs me and have a little bit of permission of him along with some good days out on the crossers and quads, top fella and good memory.

 

the other is short and simple, me and a few mates when we where younger decided to skip a day of school, think we where about 13m anyway at the back of my mates house was a few fields with corn in, so we all play German B's the game where you split into teams of 3 and make up a name, when you find your mate you bladder him untill he gives you the letter, so with not a care in the world where bouncing about swearing and booting each other when we here the farmer shout ''oi you little c*nts'' so me using my brain and relising im around 2ft nothing and weigh about 5 stone will avoid the 6'4 angry farmer with spit down his chin from him shouting, however the cock of the year at the time thought he'd be the big man, so runs up through the crops to near the farmer, teasing and swearing, we where all in stiches untill he made that stupid mistake and tried to dummy the farmer as you would in football, the big b***%*d picked the lad up and powerdrove him into the ground, as we all legged it and me mates arse up in the air trying to scramble away the farmer let off the heaviest kick to my mates arse anyone had witnessed and with that told him to ''feck off and dont come back'' the lad came back to us limping like hell and holding his arse as tears rolled down his face, i couldnt help thinking, finally you wont think your the big i am no more and after that moment never went back to that land again, even though its the funniest thing id ever witnessed.

 

Not poaching stories but just my little pitch in Atb keep the stories coming!

[poacher3161 1,766]

all sorts all depends what youre game harvesting , and were ,its something if youre not brought up into it hard to learn and harder to persevere , losing dogs fines cars can be a step back so be careful yeras ago they never had the powers and well they had more to do in some areas

I know its got worse with the new laws now days whin but it was ten times worst around these parts years ago.

[sweeper 156]

Written by a bloke I know from the old country

 

 

 

I had to have a bit of a think about what people mean by the term Poacher. Poachers in the old sense of the word were people who took what they needed from wherever they could in order to feed the family and keep the proverbial wolf from the door I suppose. That’s still true in some ways, but to be honest with you, I think there are more people doing it these days just because they like it; for the sheer enjoyment of getting out with a dog in places where you are not supposed to be. Living by your wits is something so alien to a lot of people today so it’s no surprise that a certain few feel the urge to jump a few fences every now and again. Whenever I speak to people about poaching, I invariably hear the story of how their granddad or their dad used to do a bit, and I think that’s maybe a sign of the times we are living in. Maybe wandering off the beaten track was more common back then. Maybe sometimes it was the only way to supplement the often meager rations available to the working classes. Or maybe our grandfathers were all better at telling tall tales than we are! I for one know that my granddad poached because he handed it down through the family. He kept whippet/greyhound crosses for the abundant hares and rabbits that inhabited the fields adjacent to the grimy little industrial town that sat so incongruously amongst the countryside of one of the most beautiful areas in the country. Whether he was a poacher was another matter though, as I don’t think he strayed regularly enough to be called such. He knew his stuff though as was evidenced on many an occasion.

 

Today we don’t have rationing, or wages akin to slavery. Most people earn a decent living and have all the home comforts that society demands. Judging by the homes of the lads I’ve been out with, it was never a choice of poaching or go hungry more a choice of poaching or staying in to watch Ray Mears on Sky TV with a four pack of lager and a curry!

 

As with many kids who grew up in or around the countryside, I poached. Or at least I liked to think I did. The reality was a little less glamorous than the term poaching suggests. I guess a trespasser would be a more fitting description for me as more often than not, I would return home empty handed. If I was to be judged on game taken home, then a true poacher would laugh himself silly. We messed around with poaching if I am honest with you. In the little group that I knocked around with, none of us had parents that hunted. My old man used to do a bit when he was the same age as me, but nothing really since. My mates were worse as most of them were from well-to-do families who had relocated to the countryside so they had no grounding in hunting at all. What did stir us though was just the sheer fact of being amongst all that game, seeing all the animals around us and wanting a piece of it. We had a bobbery pack of every rag-tag mongrel dog we could get our hands on and off we went! To say we were hopeless was an understatement but boy, were we keen! Funnily enough, it was only when my mates drifted away from field sports that I ever experienced any sort of success with poaching. I don’t know why they drifted away. I suppose it was our age when you think back. We were teenagers and we were discovering the joys of drink, motorbikes and girls so it’s no wonder that some of the lads suddenly found something else to do on a rainy Saturday night. Personally I think they were lightweights as I’ve always managed to balance drink, women and hunting and never had a problem! Actually, they probably lost interest as we were crap at what we were doing. Too many nights walking home with nothing to show for it takes a toll on anyone but the dedicated.

 

Now all land is owned by somebody, or so I’ve been told, so if you haven’t got a permission letter in your pocket when you’re out working your dog, then you could get yourself in bother. Or you could do what a pal of mine does and just make a permission slip up for places where he’s got no permission in case he does ever get pulled! Seems to work for him! When I moved to my little cottage in the countryside, one of the first things I did was to find out where the locals walked their dogs. As you looked out of my front window, all you could see were horse paddocks and cattle and out the back was orchards, so there was plenty of scope for a bit of dog exercise. All of the these fields are bisected by footpaths and bridleways which allows for a certain amount of reconnaissance for people with a roving eye for game and I took full advantage of it. Having to get up early for work was a pain in the arse for me, as it is for everyone, but it meant that I was out before anyone else in my village and I got to see what game was about and what ground held it. The weekends were my time for exploring new ground but the mornings and evenings were used to harvest some of the game that I had discovered previously. It’s amazing what you come across when you walk the hedgebacks in this manner and it’s very low risk too. As long as you aren’t too far away from a path, then with a little imagination and bit of luck, you will get yourself out of any potential situation with someone who has a genuine right to be there and is daft enough to be up as early as you are!

 

Because I had terriers at the time, lamping was out of the question for me, as a pot filling exercise anyway. As they worked their way through the grass between the rows of apple trees, my terriers would always put up rabbits, which invariably raced away to the hedge line of Hawthorn and Elder, leaving my dogs far behind in the chase. As the dogs knew the score with this type of bushing, I never had to leave the sanctuary of the footpath, but these methods of taking game left a lot to be desired quite frankly. If I was to fill the freezer, then I was going to have to take more risks than I had been and put my neck on the line. This led me to dabble with snaring, something which would get me in trouble later in life, but that’s another story. To cut a long story short, one Saturday night, after I’d finished watching Match of the Day, I set out armed with a pocket full of brass wires, which I set on the hedge line I mentioned earlier on. With that job done, I strolled home, happy with my little endeavour and looking forward to the morning. Before first light I was up and out with the dogs and more in hope than anticipation, I checked those snares. To my delight I’d caught myself some of the bunnies that had been making fools of my dogs. This was my first real spur to crack on with the poaching and it wasn’t long before I was walking miles before work, checking all my wires and generally mooching about after a bit of sport.

 

With so much land at my disposal, I came to think of the surrounding area as my own. I got more daring in what I was doing, but also more relaxed when I actually came to do it. I was always on my guard against complacency, but I suppose I was guilty of that to some extent if I’m honest. I think there are two methods I used when I was out and about, and that was to have a brass neck about things and be so obvious that any other folk wouldn’t bat an eye lid, or the sneaky approach, where guile was the order of the day.

 

There was one instance I remember where, looking back, I must have been mad, but it paid off and I was the one taking the rabbits home. There was a hedge bordering an old pub garden that had recently been turned in to a private home, and this hedge was riddled with rabbit holes. One side of the hedge was a garden and the other side was a field with a Beech hedge about 30 yards away from the rabbits. The trouble I had with this was that between the Beech hedge and the rabbits were was a very popular bridle path that joggers, horse riders and dog walkers used. I’d walk past where these rabbits were every day and curse the location and popularity of that path! In the end I got sick of not being able to get those rabbits, so I vowed to do something about it. With my terriers and a Frisbee, I set out one Sunday morning to do a bit of pruning. In between throwing the Frisbee for the dogs, I’d snip a twig here, a branch there, until I started to fashion myself a little hide in the Beech hedge. It took me ages, and my right arm was bloody knackered from throwing the bloody Frisbee, but when it was time to go home, I reckon I’d made myself something approaching a decent bit of concealment. As that afternoon wore on, I dug out some old army gear and got myself some kit together for what was to be a sneaky little shoot. Now I didn’t want to walk down the road with a rifle case on my shoulder, dressed like a commando as there’s two reactions that the locals would have; either the next Hungerford was about to happen, or (more likely) I was about to get up to no good. With that in mind, a sporty rucksack was loaded with a camouflage jacket and accoutrements and I put my trust in the newly constructed hide to do the rest. As I got to the hide, a few rabbits shot down their holes, which was fine as I was intending to be there for however long it took. With all of my army gear on and the all important hat in place, I plonked myself down with rifle at the ready. All the time I am somewhere I shouldn’t be, I am constantly thinking of excuses in the event that I am caught. In the position I was in though, sat in the bushes in full camouflage, next to a footpath with a rifle, I thought to myself why bother? Not even I am a good enough bullshitter to get myself out of that one!

As the rabbits appeared, they were shot. Not straight away though, as I leave it long enough for a few to emerge, as I find that way there is more a chance of one sitting tight as his mates get it, thus giving you another shot. What I did do though was to leave any shot bunny where it was as to go and retrieve it meant that I’d have to break my cover. Anyway, all was going to plan until the dog walkers turned up. Upon hearing the sound of a few dogs playing, I was in two minds. I could either get up and leg it, leaving the bunnies where they were, or more likely, leaving them to the bloody dogs, or I could sit it out and hope no-one saw me. Arrogance got the better of me and I decided to trust my camouflage. As the dogs got closer, I began to brick it, but there was nothing else for it but to sit tight and hope for the best. Now if the worst situation occurred, I was going to get right up the people about being on “my” land on a shoot day and hope that an angry, armed bloke emerging from the bushes would be enough to shock them and put them on the back foot. I find that righteous indignation is a great weapon in a lot of cases, even if my indignation was anything but righteous! All I would have to do was buy some time and convince them that they were in the wrong, even if only for a short while, giving me time to ditch my gear and be somewhere else sharpish. Most folk carry a mobile phone these days and plod can be on you rather quickly, so every second counts.

 

The dogs got closer and closer, and my thoughts of avoiding being detected by them vanished into thin air. As they got close to me, the lead dog, a black Labrador started scenting and he located me in seconds. I don’t mind saying my heart was in my mouth. I needn’t have worried though, as despite every single one of the dogs “finding” me, none of them gave me away and they and their owners passed by without a care in the world. With a big sigh, I thanked God, my lucky stars, Russell Grant and any other bugger (No offence Russell!) I could think of and decided that enough was enough. I’ve done similar things on dozens of occasions and only once has a dog given me away. Luckily I was sat in some nettles so the dog owner was a little reluctant to pursue me, but I got away with it. You’d think I’d learn my lesson from that, nah! You’d be wrong!

 

There was another little spot that I’d visit quite regular and this called for the other technique I mentioned earlier: the brass neck. Now this place was busy with dog walkers but there was a little wood a way off that bordered paddocks and stables. This was strictly out of bounds and called for the ignorant dog walker technique to be employed. There wasn’t much cover on the floor of this wood as the canopy was so thick, so you’d get to see a decent chase should the dogs put something up. There weren’t many times I’d come home empty handed from this place and the dogs loved it, but it was hard going as it was steep in places. I poached this place for years and my little terrier/greyhound cross got her first fox in there at twelve months old so it holds some good memories for me. Alas the badgers have moved in and along with them the people who like to watch them, so it really is out of bounds these days. I’d go over to this place during the day for a bit of sport on the bunnies and at night for Charlie and anything else that popped up. It was in quite close proximity to a built up area but the rewards were so good that I was often over there mooching around. The first thing that drew my attention to the fact that people might know what I was up to, was when the gaps in the stave fencing I used started getting repaired. This got me a little paranoid but didn’t really deter me. I should have known better though as one night, just as it was getting dark, I heard a voice call out, asking me what the hell I was doing there. That’s when something clicked in my brain and immediately I thought of a response. I’ve always been a bit devious I suppose. I can remember always coming up with excuses when I was caught doing something stupid as a kid; usually when caught nicking birds eggs from people’s gardens. Anyway I digress. As I said, something clicked in my brain and I wheeled round to see the stable owner leaning over a fence, glaring at me. Quick as a flash I said “Have you seen a Jack Russell?” Now I was dressed in rather a smart Barbour jacket and cords with the finest brogue boots ever to grace the Midland Game Fair show ring, so I looked respectable enough. If I had been wearing Reebok Classics, with tracky bottoms tucked in socks, then this bloke would have been on to me. His generation and income bracket are rather distrustful of our delightful chavs! Anyway, with my question hanging in the air, this bloke was now thinking of something other than what I’m doing on his land, as I’ve just told him. I got on the front foot straight away and start babbling about little “Rags” and how she’s been lost for 12 hours now and that she was last seen this morning by my wife (another throw-away comment that backed up my respectability) heading towards these woods in pursuit of a rabbit. It’s quite amazing the amount of rubbish that I can talk when I put my mind to it, and I really took the wind out of this blokes sails. I left there after giving the bloke a fictitious phone number in case he came across Rags (which he’d never ring as Rags would never turn up), and I actually went back for the next two nights, knowing that he wouldn’t be on my case. I ended up getting on good terms with that bloke actually, and he allowed me to walk my dogs there any time I wanted!..you see, sometimes it pays off! I’ve used the Jack Russell dodge so many times over the years and it got to the point where I was going to print out some of those “missing” posters you see up around the place, but I never did.

 

Another good method of poaching I use to employ was for the ducks. A little way off from my village there was a trout farm which had a stream that fed some of the ponds that had originally powered water wheels for some print works. Those works had long gone and the streams were a lot cleaner now than they were back then I imagine. I’d been down to this place to have a not so sneaky look about in the daytime one autumn. I’d gone down armed with a few old Tupperware boxes and the terriers in tow. At the first decent sized bramble bush, I stopped and chucked a good handful in my plastic tubs so that it looked like I was there for a reason. I mean, no-one minds bramblers do they? As I was picking away, I was clocking all of the mallards that were under the bushes which over hung the stream edges. They weren’t there long though, as the attention my terriers gave them, put them up and away. One thing I did notice though was that due to the bushes, the ducks were struggling to get airborne before the dogs got close. With this in mind, I vowed to come back some time and see if I could bag me a few. I must admit I forgot about this place for a while and it was only when I was hunting a very similar situation on my own “real” permission later in the year that I remembered about my brambling expedition. I decided to visit the trout farm again and this time take a risk and carry a rifle with me. I didn’t want the commotion of the dogs hitting the water and causing all manner of commotion, so they were left and I was armed with an air rifle and a lamp. I waited until a frosty night and then headed out, hoping for a soaking, as that meant that I’d had to get in the stream and retrieve any ducks. With the rifle case stashed in the brambles close to where I’d been a few months earlier, I located a nice drake under a bush and squeezed the trigger. The sound moderator did its job superbly and the drakes head went down. No sooner had I taken the shot I heard a bell sound to my right. I turned round to see a flashing red light swaying and coming towards me. I had no idea what it was but it turned out to be one of those battery operated dog collars so that folk don’t lose old Fido on a night walk. I quickly stashed the rifle rather roughly in the brambles as Fido and his owner descended on me. They didn’t know I was there of course, not until I started whistling and shouting “Rags”...yes you’ve guessed it.

 

Anyway, I decided that I wasn’t going to risk a rifle again, so the next time I went over there I took a terrier and a lamp. After all, this bloke was walking his dog there, so why couldn’t I? I calculated that the ducks would still have trouble getting airborne, due to the bushes, only this time they’d be up against Clulites finest as well. As I never had the rifle, the hard work was going to be down to the dog and she never let me down. The light would go on and she would swim down the beam and catch the panicking duck. I took a fair few Mallard drakes like that and it was a pleasure to see the little bitch work. There’s nothing worse than seeing drakes mob ducks in the breeding season so a few less, by fair means or foul (no pun intended) would do the girls no harm and certainly make for an interesting meal for me. Despite having the Clulite with me, I never got asked what I was doing by the myriad dog walkers there. I put this down to a few reasons, one of which is that a lot of people use those cheap rechargeable lamps for dog walking these days, so not many people take notice. At least they didn’t round there anyway. That reminds me of a time when a bloke told me that white dogs aren’t good for lamping on hot ground as they stand out too much. Someone replied to him “so the million candle power lamp shining around the field doesn’t give you away then?” Wish I’d thought of that one!

 

I could fill a book of my own with daft tales like these, but that’s never going to happen, so I’ll leave you there. I have been jumping fences to a certain degree most of my life, although I suppose I do more now than I ever did. I don’t think it’s something I’ll stop doing as I enjoy it too much. I can’t see I do much harm personally as I don’t take anything that anyone relies on for their living. I poach for sport and to bag some grub into the bargain. I kill foxes when I poach but I’m never going to eat them, so I won’t spin you some spiel about living as a poacher of old or living off the land or any of that romantic, nostalgic business. I do it because I like it, because I’ve always done it, because I always will. Be lucky.

really good read stabs enjoyed it

i also have been using the "ive lost my jack russel" tale for years and always come up trumps

regards