The Day of the Hunter

It started out as an ordinary walk around the fields after lunch. We were nearly three quarters of the way around when I decided to cut across the stubble and make straight for the house. But suddenly Hugo took off. He had unearthed another bleedin hare, and he wasn't going to stop until he got it. Backwards and forwards they hurtled across the field, the hare spinning back 180 degrees every dozen or so yards, Hugo right on its tail. He was so close I think he could have grabbed it a few times, but wonder if he was reluctant to do so. It's the sport he likes maybe, not the kill. As I watched the hare shot across the small lane and Hugo followed. Now I was seriously worried. Stuck in the middle of the field, I couldn't exactly run after them for fear of turning an ankle on the rough ground, so I hastened as fast as I could. When I got to the lane there was no sight of either of them, so I guessed they must have charged straight across into the woods and the next field. I walked up and down the lane calling, calling. Nothing. Might they have made their way up to the lane we live on, a quiet road but it does get traffic? I just didn't know. I thought of calling Sarah, asking her to head him off at the top while I went around the bottom, but I had no signal. I felt sick with dread, wondering where he would end up, when after about 20 minutes he appeared at the bottom of the hill. I called Hugo, come! and he turned and spotted me and started running. But halfway up the hill it was clear he was right out of energy. When he got to me he was more out of breath than I've ever seen him, sides lurching in and out as he desperately fought for oxygen. We limped home where he collapsed, his heart thumping so fast he couldn't find a way to relax. It took ages to get him back to normal.

That evening we went over to Sarah's for a drink when I discovered that Hugo likes cats! The oldest of the three, Neville, came boldly up to the boy for a look and Hugo wagged his tail madly, trying to get nearer. We decided that his idea of play might not be suitable for an elderly moggie so I kept him firmly on the lead. But I was pleasantly surprised. We exchanged gossip, and Sarah's main news was that Alyss and her family no longer live in the farmhouse across the field from me. That meant that Ollie, the heavy, thickset Staffie who plays with Hugo but then won't go away, is no longer there. I'd stopped walking that way because I feared he'd crash into me and break something. This was very good news, and first thing this morning we set off down the track and headed off up through the wheat field, a path helpfully carved right through the middle. It was blissful walking on such a lovely morning, the golden wheat all around us and then, further on, grassy tracks and everywhere the scent of sweet, sweet hay and straw. Coming back down, we saw that a tractor was making good progress ploughing our field. So that's that then. But nothing could spoil my intense pleasure, and the knowledge that we can do this walk as often as we want now that the impediment has been removed.

I'm very pleased with how the pond is looking