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A knock on the door ...


robbiep
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Anyway, there I was on Friday evening. A quiet night in for me, as I'd had training or matches (running and badminton) for 4 consecutive nights. Wife had gone down to help out with badminton club night, so time for me to switch off with a beer, and just chill ...

 

Until a landie came onto the yard about 8pm. I went to the door once the lights came on, and an old farmer who I know by sight comes up.

 

"Hello, I'm Dewi, from Gwenyn. Are you the gentleman who does pest control for Wyn Rhiwbebyll ?"

"Yes, that's me, I'm Rob. Won't you come in".

 

So he comes into the kitchen. Then straight down to business : "He says you shoot foxes for him. I've lost 4 lambs in the last 2 nights"

 

"Give me 5 minutes, and we'll get going"

 

Text my wife, then gear up. The .223 rifle, 10 rounds. Three good torches (white, red and green beams), NV monocular, squeaker. Also my 12 bore and a few Alphamax. It's sleeting out, so plenty of layers, good gloves, wellies, the lot. Then I jump into my Shogun, and follow him to the farm 2 miles away and up the hill.

 

The farmyard is at 700 feet, and it's snowing properly there, and sticking too. I'm not optimistic. Even seeing a fox will be a big ask in this, never mind getting one dropped. We go up the fields on foot, and the lie of the ground is difficult too.

The rifle is out of the question. I don't know the land, so I don't know my backstops. We head back to the farmhouse, and I get the shotgun. He goes on in to the house (I think he's about 70, and last thing I want is him getting hypothermia or pneumonia out in these conditions).

Over the next 4 hours, I saw a fox (or different foxes) twice. Both times fleeting sightings at 50 yards or so. Both times in the same sort of area (I'm covering 50 acres of a hill on foot here).

Back down to the farmyard, and it's gone midnight now. He's still up, and insists on me having a cup of tea before I head home. Must admit, I was pretty well frozen and soaked, and it was very welcome. Before I go, arrange that I'll bring 2 cage traps down on Saturday morning, and get them set up and baited - in the areas where I saw the fox or foxes. Then home, guns away, bed, warmth, sleep.

 

Saturday morning, up at 7. First feed the chickens and sheep at home, then down to my little local slaughterhouse/butcher in town. He supplies me with 2 big breasts of lamb, and a carrier bag full of lambs lung. Those will do nicely for bait. Then home, trailer, cage traps, and over to Dewi's.

We get the traps set up in some good gorse patches - he's never trapped or shot a fox in his life, like a surprising number of farmers in this part of the world. I show him how to re-set them, and how I (hopefully) set them where the foxes are looking for food sources. I've seen some obvious fox runs, and a few spots where they're going under fences (and leaving hair), but all those spots are right on bridleways or footpaths, so no chance of putting out snares.

 

I go up again at dusk, and stake out a nice field area. Put the UCaller out, but nothing comes to it. Home for 8 to a slightly grumpy wife.

 

Sunday morning, 8 am. Landie pulls up, and out he gets, with a huge grin on his face. "There's a fox in one of the traps".

We head over there, and go to the first trap. A large dog fox gets 12.5 grammes of lead vaccination from the .410 shotgun.

"Have you checked the other trap ?". "No, not yet. I was so happy to see a fox in this one I came straight over to you".

So we walk round. There's another dog fox, waiting for his lead dose !

 

Traps re-set.

 

Lunchtime, he comes over to the house, with a HUGE bunch of flowers for my wife, and 2 bottles of wine. "Just to say sorry for dragging him off for the weekend", he says. Turns out he knew her grandfather, when they get to chatting

 

Happy farmer, happy Rob, happy wife !

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Well done , I am sure word of mouth may now get you even more ground.

 

As already said good in you for putting in the effort in difficult circumstances and well rewarded too. I'm sure your work won't go unnoticed by the local farmers

 

The last thing I'd want is more land !

 

I'm very aware, with all my other commitments (work, badminton, running - I'm a coach as well as a runner), that I don't want to take on farms and then not do them justice in terms of the pest control that needs doing. The 'main' farm I shoot on borders onto my fields. I can walk out of my house, up a field, across a small stile I've put in, and crack on. I know the farmer well.

Unfortunately, quite a few farms round here have 'permission hoarders', who the farmers don't see for months or years on end. Probably because it's all hills and hard work.

As such, I've turned down a plenty of people for permanent permissions, and have just told them that if they've got a one-off problem, then feel free to give me a shout. I think they appreciate that more than someone promising them all sorts, and then being invisible until 6 months before FAC renewal !

 

Anyway, out before 7 this morning to check the traps. One very grumpy polecat, last seen scurrying off into the gorse after I let him out. Somewhere in that area there's got to be an earth, and a vixen with cubs. If I can locate it, I know a good terrierman who'll be only too happy to come up and lend a hand ...

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