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Little Meg


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Well it's one of those posts than everyone hopes to never have to write, but Saturday saw the death of Meg, my youngest lurcher. It was the end of a terrible week, one which I hope never to experience again. A fox was bolted from some bales which Meg took off after. She rounded a barn and I heard the most awful noise, one that made me instantly sick to my stomach. The little lass had hit a plough and broke her neck and I had to make the decision there to shoot her. Never a nice thing to have to do.

 

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She'd been coming on great guns and was doing everything I'd asked of her bar working on the water. She was only 15 months old but I had a real feeling for her. I hope to someday own another one like her. Here's hoping.

 

RIP Meg

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sorry to hear it mate! we all have that gremlin hanging over us when we walk out the door when hunting it's part of the life we chose, you done the right thing by her and she went out doing [bANNED TEXT] she was born and bred to do. kia kaha bro.

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