Marchweeke Farm,

Each month we provide an update on the activities and events that have taken place at Marchweeke Farm as we develop our own beef, lamb, pork and poultry enterprises.

We must be gluttons for punishment because, besides rearing sheep, cattle, pigs, laying hens, table chickens and turkeys, we also have a motley collection of five dogs and a cat. One of the dogs, a sweet natured Labrador, belongs to my brother and is lodging while they refurbish their flat in London. Perdie is descended from a long and line of distinguished working gun dogs but she has spent too long in the city and has become urbanised. At the distant sound of a shotgun she cowers under the table and the only game she is interested in is fetching sticks.

Then there is Lucy, our senile old Staffie terrier with a foot-licking fetish and bad breath; the latter being the result of the former! Her heavily-muscled legs have stiffened with age; after a long stroll she walks like a clockwork toy. There is little point trying to watch the TV if Lucy is in the room. Her snoring will override the TV, even on full volume. Even if she is awake you are no better off because her flatulence makes your eyes water to such an extent that you cannot see across the room!

Julie’s mum lives in an adjoining cottage and she has one of Lucy’s offspring; another Staffie bitch with an anxiety complex that triggers a frantic and loud panting. She can pant for six and three quarter hours without stopping; we know because that is how long it took us to drive from Witheridge to Whitby for our holiday!

As if that wasn’t sufficient amusement we also have a young Cairn. As with many terriers he has small man syndrome; compensating for small body with domineering and feisty attitude. He also suffers from hyperactivity, attention deficit disorder and pathologic hatred of birds. He spends most daylight hours chasing birds from the peanut feeders in Julie’s mum’s garden; wearing tracks across the lawn and through the new beech hedge.

Moss is my blue merle collie and the only dog on the farm of any tangible use. I am biased but there can’t be many collies capable of shepherding sheep; herding cattle and guiding the chickens or turkeys into the sheds at night! If she has a weakness it is her fondness for chasing squirrels which can be irksome when the vet is waiting in the yard and we have to gather the cattle in a hurry.

Unfortunately, our menagerie is now one fewer. This month saw the passing of our farm cat. You may recall that two years ago Tigger went missing and despite an exhaustive search we were unable to find him. Seventeen days later he emerged in a pitifully thin state with deep abrasions to his flank. Although he regained the weight he was never the same cat; his hind legs were weakened giving him a somewhat mincing gait. The main problem was his digestive system’s inability to cope with roughage. He would saunter into the house with his little belly as tight as a drum having consumed a young rabbit or large rat; two days later he would be in a sorry constipated state due to a blockage in his bowels. Each time Julie would take him to the vets for a colonic irrigation and he would return home in a foul mood; flicking his tail in anger at having been violated. One time the blockage required surgery but he recovered and life went on fine until the next rabbit. Just before Christmas the little chap was blocked again and in a lot of discomfort and this time we felt that we had done all we were able for him. I brought him back from the vets for burial on the coldest day of the winter. I’m not a big fan of cats but I admit to a certain sense of sadness but by the time I had broken the handle on the shovel and spent an hour and a half working up a sweat while chipping at the frozen ground with a pick my thoughts were less charitable! I’ve warned the girls not to rake too vigorously in the back orchard! Only kidding!

Have a good month. Simon, Julie and Rebecca