The muscles in the dog’s back rippled as it banged his front feet into the turf. It then thrust off with its powerful back legs. These legs were precision pistons and within two seconds this beautifully muscled, jet black dog was at full speed. And what a speed. Its legs were a blur and each…
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The Perfect Miniature Hunt …Almost!
To have a hunt there needs to be a quarry and one or more hunters. To have a good hunt there should be a find, a travelling hunt, maybe a check or two and a conclusion. The conclusion can be a kill on top, or a mark and a dig or a bolt. But it…
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Fishing with Toby (and a confession)
“A walk! On a beach? In November? Here in Scotland?” I said. “Yes. Why not?” Ali said. “Because it’s bloody freezing.” “You take the dogs out when it’s freezing.” She countered. She gets like this when she’s eaten too much broccoli. That’s the trouble with women, especially Ali, they’re very logical when they want to…
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Gone Dog
It started off as just another mooch. The only thing slightly different was that nine-year old Poppy, who was usually as bouncy as the rest, despite her years, hung back and ambled along twenty yards behind us. Even when the others had found a scent alongside the burn, albeit an old one and a younger…
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Apologies to an Old Dog
In the October issue was an article I had written about how an old dog caught a fox and that it was only because he was too old and too slow that I managed to witness most of the hunt. In the past this dog has been a demon fox slayer but sometimes the only…
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