Lamping lurchers season is around the corner

Finally it's in sight

Like every other year, the time between harvest and the Autumn weather making an appearance seems to take an age. I am certain that the dogs know when a new lamping season is on the cusp as they start to exhibit behaviours such as going to the cupboard where the lamps are stored, on occasion Gummo has been known to use her snout to try and open the door and walking to the front door and staring like a pair of maniacs through the glass as it gets dark (thankfully we have no immediate neighbours to witness this display of canine lunacy).  

Like the dogs I also start to get excited when the evenings start drawing in and especially if the winds swing to the North and picks up the pace. The time that cements the start of season is when the undergrowth has died off and the leaves of the deciduous trees are all on the deck.

Seasons past

When a new season is beginning I always find myself thinking of the previous season and how the dogs and I performed and what improvements to try and make. I am going to use this article to tell some tales of seasons past.

The drainage trench

A few seasons ago I found myself in the bottom of a drainage trench with a suspected broken foot at 3am, the lessons I took away from that escapade were that a 18kg lurcher has zero chance of pulling a 14st man from a drainage trench and that no matter how well you think you know the land, at least have a small maglite so you can see exactly where you are walking. My wife was in America for work when this happened so I had to hobble and drive to the nearest hospital, thankfully at the time I had an automatic but it still was not a pleasant drive. After four hours and an X-ray it was concluded that I had not broken my foot but had severely sprained it, I had the sense when I checked into the hospital to tell them I had been dropped off as I had a feeling they would not allow me to drive, which proved to be right, so after pretending to phone my lift, I hobbled back to the car and had a slightly less painful journey home where I was greeted by a very clean dog but a very muddy settee. 

The collision 

The season just gone was Dharma's first proper season being slipped and sent off down the beam. I do not work dogs properly until they are in their second year, this gives the dog time to grow and to learn basics such as retrieving and stopping. I was interested to see how the big girl would work on the land that I work dogs on, as most of the fields are on the small side and she is quite a gangly hound so I was intrigued to see how she would turn with a rabbit. It was around mid October once we finally had weather that was decent for lamping dogs and therefore time for the black beast to demonstrate her potential.

I took both dogs across the road to a neighbours field and started walking the perimeter in the shadows of the hedgerow. It was not long before the dogs stopped and were looking into the darkness of the field. I removed Dharma's collar and lit the field up, about 150 yards out there was a rabbit, Dharma did not waste any time and had soon covered the distance, the rabbit made the mistake of running deeper into the field and a few seconds later Dharma's first rabbit was in the bag (literally).

I was extremely happy with how that run went and continued onto the next section of the field where I had high hopes of another run as there is a dip where the rabbits like to sit.                        I approached the dip quietly with both dogs on the leads and the lamp at the ready. I gave Dharma a pat on the head for good luck and removed her collar for the second time and hopefully her second run that evening. Rabbits! lots of rabbits sitting right where I was expecting them to be, Dharma was off like a shot and soon behind a rabbit, and then another and then another! This was not going to plan and the number of rabbits had clearly sent this inexperienced dog of mine into a tizzle and she did not know which one to chase.                     She eventually settled on one (the only one that was still above ground) and the pair were soon running into the field. I kept the beam on the running rabbit as it made a wide arc and eventually was running straight towards Gummo and I. Gummo, not having had a run so far decided she was going to grab the rabbit as it tried to run past. Great! Rabbit number two accounted for. Not so great was the big black deerhound cross running straight towards me.    A split second later Dharma ran straight into my legs knocking me over and getting tangled in Gummo's lead, which I was holding and sending us all into a tangled heap on the floor. After sorting the three of us out and being soaked wet from the waterlogged floor I decided that it was probably about half past home time.

The Owl

Once when I was working Gummo in a field on the outskirts of a nearby town I felt the presence of something above us and when I looked up there was an owl silently gliding above Gummo weighing up its chances of a tasty lurcher dinner. Luckily for Gummo and the owl alike, it decided that she was not a viable form of prey (either that or it did not fancy eating through a layer of mud) and glided swiftly away in search of something a little easier to catch than a muddy lurcher.

In Conclusion

These are just a few stories from my lamping adventures and I have many more that I will share if there is an interest. You don't really hear much from people who work lurchers anymore since the 2004 hunting with dogs act rendered it illegal to hunt anything other than rabbits and rats with dogs. I have fond memories of attending hare coursing meets before 2004. I think many people stopped keeping and breeding running dogs as a result of this law. Having said that I know people up and down the country who still put the time and effort into breeding dogs from great working lines, keeping the tradition of working lurchers alive albeit solely on rabbits. 

As I am writing this the light is beginning to fade a couple of minutes earlier than it did yesterday and I am looking forward to the coming season.

Thanks for reading

Skott