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Hunt
Today, the hunt was in town.
I knew that they were going to be about, but was quite surprised when I heard them and, popping upstairs to see, saw a load of hounds spilling out of the woods and a chap in a red coat riding along the road. I was less than pleased when he carried on up the road, leaving a load of the hounds behind to charge around Next Door's field, winding up the horse, and to come running into our proto-orchard. Not sure what went wrong, but I suspect that they were supposed to be in the Forestry Commission woods and had found an actual scent trail that took them through the woods belonging to the people at the top of the hill, who won't have given them permission to ride through, so some of the riders came down here to try to round them up, unsuccessfully.
(Mrs Next Door had, unfortunately, chosen this morning to have her first hack in about six months. She was less than impressed when she had to walk half way back (down the very steep hill) because she couldn't go on towards the route she'd planned.)
Later, we took Jo out for a walk a little way off, just in case. I'm glad we did because as we got back three (illegal) quad bikes came into the valley, full of blokes with their faces covered: "Oh dear, it's the sabs," I thought, but actually it was hunt staff, come to round up a couple of dozen dogs who seem to have decided that they prefer TWWOTV's garden to their day job.
(Turns out that the sabs were also out, also on illegal quads and a few trail bikes. Our not-very-near neighbour's had quite a day.)
I've asked them several times to let me know when they're going to be around, and they've completely ignored me. This time, I sent them a far more stiffly worded email than previously, so we'll see if it gets any response. I have no objection to the hunt, and we're very lucky that the boys just stood and watched all the excitement (although GB was twitchy when he came in this evening), but I really think that they should let people know. The hounds are bloody good jumpers, if nothing else: would they take a moment to have a quick snack on a duck? I really don't know. What if I'd been riding in the school when a mass of wolves appeared streaming out of the woods and heading straight for it?
I knew that they were going to be about, but was quite surprised when I heard them and, popping upstairs to see, saw a load of hounds spilling out of the woods and a chap in a red coat riding along the road. I was less than pleased when he carried on up the road, leaving a load of the hounds behind to charge around Next Door's field, winding up the horse, and to come running into our proto-orchard. Not sure what went wrong, but I suspect that they were supposed to be in the Forestry Commission woods and had found an actual scent trail that took them through the woods belonging to the people at the top of the hill, who won't have given them permission to ride through, so some of the riders came down here to try to round them up, unsuccessfully.
(Mrs Next Door had, unfortunately, chosen this morning to have her first hack in about six months. She was less than impressed when she had to walk half way back (down the very steep hill) because she couldn't go on towards the route she'd planned.)
Later, we took Jo out for a walk a little way off, just in case. I'm glad we did because as we got back three (illegal) quad bikes came into the valley, full of blokes with their faces covered: "Oh dear, it's the sabs," I thought, but actually it was hunt staff, come to round up a couple of dozen dogs who seem to have decided that they prefer TWWOTV's garden to their day job.
(Turns out that the sabs were also out, also on illegal quads and a few trail bikes. Our not-very-near neighbour's had quite a day.)
I've asked them several times to let me know when they're going to be around, and they've completely ignored me. This time, I sent them a far more stiffly worded email than previously, so we'll see if it gets any response. I have no objection to the hunt, and we're very lucky that the boys just stood and watched all the excitement (although GB was twitchy when he came in this evening), but I really think that they should let people know. The hounds are bloody good jumpers, if nothing else: would they take a moment to have a quick snack on a duck? I really don't know. What if I'd been riding in the school when a mass of wolves appeared streaming out of the woods and heading straight for it?