Foxglove

The dog seemed to have her 'night eyes' straight away, for she was pacing around me, eager to get on. I clipped the battery pack around my waist, tested the lamp briefly, and started to walk. The dog needed no command to stay at heel: this was her world and she knew what was expected of her.

Despite the drying winds, the field I approached out of the strip of woodland was heavy walking, the tilth treading deeply under each footfall. I switched the lamp on briefly, then off.

That showed me three roe deer in the open field, eating the wheat, and a rabbit close to the boundary hedge. Ignoring the deer, as she has been taught, the dog queried the rabbit with a sharp prod of her nose on my leg. No, not that one.

She showed her disapproval by a sharp intake of breath, but stayed to heel. We topped the rise, which seemed steeper than when I had last been there, and our reward was a rabbit well-placed out in the first third of the field.

Stark white light enveloped it, and the dog began her run. The rabbit sat up uncertainly, and the dog picked it up with a neat sideways flick of her head.

Further along were two rabbits together, just beginning to hop towards the woods as I switched on the lamp again. I thought she would go for one but she chose the other, and it gave her a hard and tricky run, swerving and spinning to try and throw her off so that it could get to the trees.

She struck it hard just before the cover, fumbled the catch and dropped it, then picked up properly. This time I waited until her breathing was back to normal, a touch of my finger on her side showing that she was fitter than I had expected.

From there we had quite a long walk to the next suitable place. The wind had scattered tree debris on the ground, and although I am practised at walking quietly, I still caught the odd twig or pile of dry leaves underfoot, annoying myself with the noise as well as alerting rabbits to our presence.

More deer showed green eyes in the woods. I trod my way through the tractor ruts on the track, trying to avoid the puddles for the noise they would make, and the dog stepped daintily after me. Our tactics were worthwhile, for as I swung the beam along the next field there was a rabbit for us, and the beautiful, keen predator beside me launched herself after it. It ran a long straight line as a confident rabbit will, and she powered after it and picked it up without a turn.

The next rabbit outsmarted her by feinting and dodging round a patch of cover until it managed to go to ground, and it took us five minutes of walking until we found another. By then she was well into her rhythm, and although the rabbit was close to cover, she managed to keep it out in the field until she could pick it up.

I felt her heartbeat fluttering against her narrow ribs, and made her rest for the few minutes it took her to recover. That was time enough for me to drain and hock the rabbits, and thread them properly onto the carrier.

We had one more field to try, and that would be enough, for although she was fitter than I had expected, she was not as fit as she could be, not being long after her heat. This night's work would be sufficient for now, and a few more like it would bring her steadily into full fitness, ready for the next time the moon would be down.

This feature first appeared in the West Sussex Gazette March 5. To see it first, buy the West Sussex Gazette every Wednesday.