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Quick Tale.


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Had a walk out the other day, had the little rough coated hound Gwen, and the big guns out. We'd had a fairly eventful morning, seen a few bits of game here and there, had a wander and a natter. On the way back to the car we rounded the corner of the track and in the distance spotted something dart away into a big rough patch, a mass of fallen trees, brambles and some fern. We continued a long chatting, and as we drew level with the spot, Gwen perked up, nose down, tail wagging, meandering back and forth. We stopped and watched, as she slunk off slowly into the cover. As she disappeared from sight, we just stood and drank in the noises and sights of the early morning woodland.

 

Soon enough it was broken by a broken baying, growing stronger and deeper. Sounding like it came from a much more imposing dog than the little scruffy mongrel hound, it bounced around the trees, going off into the distance, and then back and fore, twisting and turning around the patch of cover, the size of a football field, eventually it was coming back toward us, half baying, half screaming, and quickening in pace.

 

Like a cork from a bottle, the Vixen bolted across our path. In full health and with a big silver streak down her side, she disappeared down the banking into the gorse, and back toward her cubs. Behind her came a very excited looking hound who I managed to field before she to plummeted into the gorse.

 

Hope you enjoyed. She's been a really good bitch for me, and is really coming into her own now. Although only three, she is now the only surviver from her litter. I'm thinking i'll have to get on and breed her soon. . . . . and i'm really looking forward to running on some of her pups.

 

 

 

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