training proper and sheep – 28th June 2009

OK, I will talk a little about consent.  The moorland surrounding my house is internationally important for its blanket bog, it is also important for its Hen Harrier, Merlin, and Peregrine falcon.  Historically it has been important for its grouse, it is still important for sheep grazing and it has great cultural significance.  It is an important cultural landscape.  It is also an area of intensive, illegal, off road motorcycle activity.  Where this motorcycle activity is most concentrated the peat has been so damaged that recovery is unlikely, wildfires are common place and uncontrolled, and ground nesting birds are a thing of the past.  In total it covers 67,000 acres.

Now, the area that I count grouse on is a 2000 acre part of this main block.  I come off it at the end of February and leave it alone through the nesting season until the August count.  I leave it alone so as not to disturb any nesting birds, primarily the Hen Harrier that may possibly produce chicks that fledge as late as the end of July.  In order to do the right thing the estate that I count on has to apply for consent from our country agency for me to do so.  Potentially disturbing birds with a dog – which is technically what I could be construed as doing, is a PDO or Potentially Damaging Operation.  I therefore dutifully apply for consent on behalf of the land owner and consent is granted.  Don’t get me wrong, I agree that consent is a useful tool to ensure that nothing untoward takes place but the reality is that I may be working my dog in one area whilst motorcycles rip through a lek site half a mile away, or a team of mountain bikers fly between Grace and the birds, or simply a dog walker walks by with his spaniel putting up every bird under the sun.  I, however, because of the formal nature of a count have to have consent.  I can’t help thinking that the regulating authorities may have taken their collective eye off the ball.

Today I went up onto the moorland.  I purposefully went to an area that has been severely damaged by motorcyclists and supports very few birds.  The object was to run Archie through a patch of heather and bilberry alongside the track to see how he responded to heather.  He would be kept on a line at all times.  In addition, if the patch contained sheep all the better.  Archie has not yet come across sheep and I felt now was the time to do this.  As we arrived we were passed by a group of motorcyclists who stopped just past where I had stopped, turned around and decided to check me out, asking if I was ‘going off road’.  When I explained that I wasn’t, as this was a protected site they nodded sagely then headed off through the peat.  They really only wanted to find out whether I was likely to report them to the police, who would do nothing anyway.  I then headed off with Archie.

Archie ran well.  He seemed to love the experience, turning on every whistle and recalling when need be.  He also had no problem dropping on the whistle, even if it meant him disappearing out of sight into deep heather.  We worked our way into the wind and he even quartered in a vaguely useful way.  This was really only a taster but he ran really well.  I was really pleased.  We also came across a few sheep and I made sure that Archie realised they were out of bounds.  This will obviously take some work but he didn’t appear to show anything other than curiosity.  This curiosity however was nipped in the bud.  We also saw a Goshawk flying overhead which was a bonus.

When we returned to the land rover we were passed by another different group of motorcycles.  They are wrecking this moorland and really don’t care in the slightest.

When we got back Archie went into the kennel and I took Grace out.  We spent the next hour down by the river.  Grace had a good run, then we followed the river bank for about a mile, scrambling our way between riffle stretches and deep pools.  This is really a wonderful place to spend an hour or two and whilst it may not be  training we both had fun.  It is sessions like this that really remind me how lucky we are to live here.  On one occasion a sparrow hawk came out of the woods and headed straight towards me at head height, suddenly noticed me and flew in an arc in front of me and up to the canopy before heading away from me.  What really surprised me was the silence of it all.  I didn’t hear a wing beat.