Mysterious Fauna

Iggy in the bath

As I've mentioned before, I work as a dogwalker.  A friend and I run a small business called 'Animal Aunties'.
We also look after cats, parrots, chickens, horses, small caged animals and whatever happens to come our way, which is why I had an iguana living in one of my bedrooms for a few weeks.  In a large tank, I might add.
My grandchildren were fascinated and my grandson, on looking at her for the first time, turned to me with wonder in his eyes, asking 'Granny, is that a dragon?'
'Yes,' I replied, not wanting to spoil the magic.
'Does she breathe fire?', he asked in a whisper, as if frightened that she might let loose with a burst of flame.
I told him no, and that there was nothing to worry about, but clearly he felt that she should.  And perhaps he still imagines that she does spurt flame, despite what old Granny told him.  And why not?  If you can't experience some mystery and magic when you are a child then it's very sad. 

And it's amazing what mysteries we come across when we are dondering around the countryside with dogs in tow.  Or in tow to the dogs, which is usually a more realistic scenario.
A few weeks ago, on our usual morning walk by the sea, I looked up and saw two pigs in the distance.   I know there are wild boar on the loose in the countryside but these were Tamworths.  Yes, our very own 'Tamworth Two'.
We got closer.  The pigs looked at us curiously then started following us.  We put the dogs on leads as they were turning themselves insides-out trying to fathom what on earth these strange creatures were.
We must have looked an odd sight as we walked along, with the dogs having to be pulled backwards, followed by the two friendly sandy coloured pigs.  Maybe they thought we had food but, eventually realising that there was nothing to be had, they trotted off in search of richer pickings.  We later discovered that they were escapees from a nearby farm and apart from a few later sightings we've heard nothing more of them.  I hope they have been recaptured and are back where they belong.

Then there are the regulars, the dolphins and the ospreys.  In the summer we often see dolphins cavorting in the Moray Firth.  They are wonderful animals and a sighting of them fairly sets you up for the day.  Sometimes they are heading for Chanonry Point on the Black Isle, but often they hunt here at Spey Bay.  The dolphins round up the shoals and then the gannets come in, diving into the water and creating the tremendous spectacle of a feeding frenzy.
The dolphins often come in close to the shore and it's an amazing experience to just stand and watch as they leap and twist out of the water.
And the ospreys fish here too, in the pools behind the shingle bank and in the river, catching the salmon to take back to their chicks further inland. 

I've also seen Orcas.  Although they come into the Firth on a yearly basis my sighting was some time ago.  I simply couldn't believe my eyes.  Five killer whales broaching the waves not two hundred yards offshore.  I checked up with the local Whale and Dolphin Society which operates from across the river Spey and they confirmed the sighting.  I just felt so lucky to have witnessed them as they made their way west.

But there are also animals that I've spotted that perhaps shouldn't be here. Or maybe they should, depending on your point of view.  And after years of watching these particular creatures I'm beginning to believe they've been around for a lot longer than we may have thought.

I'm talking about big cats.

I've seen them five times in fifteen years.  The first time was at Mulben in 1999, when a cat crossed the road in front of my car.  This was a Eureka moment for me as I'd  heard of them, interviewed people who had seen them and written about them, but, until then, never seen them myself.  I've also seen them twice in Lhanbryde and twice here where I live.   I've heard the cats (a leopard's cough, and on one occasion a sort of 'grumbling' noise) and smelled their strong tomcat odour.
The animals are black, have the bodies of leopards with very long thick tails but have a slightly different head.  It's more like a giant domestic cat's face, they don't appear to have the strong jawline of the African leopard.  This makes me think that they may be a slightly altered strain of panther.  They live in the woods and appear to be completely self-sufficient, having a good amount of food available.  They will eat almost anything, from insects and birds, to rabbits, fish, deer and the occasional sheep, which explains their success.

I'm not the only one to have seen these animals of course, many people have reported sightings.  But there was an event, something very strange, that happened just a few weeks ago.
I was walking with a friend, along with our own three dogs, when Megan rushed out of the bushes, ears down and hackles up.  She refused to go forward, as did my friend's dog (Mrs Mist was behind us, chewing grass, and hadn't noticed anything).  We tried to urge them on but it was a no go. They just wouldn't move.

Megan at the spot where she refused to let us go forward.  What did she see?

Megan went back down the path towards home, then turned and looked at me as if to say 'don't be a plonker'.  You could almost hear the audible sigh as she returned, took my gloved hand and pulled me back, away from any perceived danger.
Usually on a walk, Megan is like a bull in a china shop.  She crashes through the bushes and will chase rabbits, birds and, on the odd occasion, deer.  I don't like it when she does this, but it happens.  However, this time she was clearly petrified and so we decided to take notice and walked away, with the dogs looking back to where we had been standing minutes before, as if checking that nothing was coming after us. 
What had they seen that we hadn't?  Was it a another cat?  I don't know, but it is possible as big cats have been seen on several occasions in this immediate area.  And no, I haven't managed to photograph them but I live in hope that one day I will.  Unless Megan takes me away first!

Make Do and Mend

My dogs amongst the pink flowers of 'Thrift'  An appropriately named plant under the circumstances

Sadly, when I look at the glass this week, it's half empty. This coincides with the state of my bank account, thanks to Mr Chancellor.  I've managed to pay the car tax and the council tax but my self-employed national insurance payment is overdue.  And because of these taxing demands on my income, I can't afford to fix all the things that have gone phut recently.
I admit the situation isn't life threatening but it's damned annoying.

The dishwasher broke.  This doesn't matter as I can always use the sink but I miss being able to hide dirty dishes when somebody comes to the door.  And the digi-box is on the blink.  It freezes the screen and only works if facing away from the telly. Now I have to leap off the sofa and stand by the window every time I want to change channels otherwise the box doesn't receive the command signal from the remote control. 

My faithful old hairdryer went 'ping' and expired on Friday.  No, it's not the end of the world either, but it used to belong to my mother, was at least 20 years old and I was accustomed to having it around. 
Okay, 20 years is a good innings for any appliance, but this one went just as I switched it on, minutes before I was due to go to work.  I resorted to towel drying and then combed my hair into some semblance of style before applying half a can of lacquer to keep it in place, otherwise it looks as if I've stuck my finger into the plug socket.  A further downside was that the hat I have to wear at work wouldn't stay on as my new hairstyle was completely solid.

Then there is the car.  It has gasket problems (I know how it feels) and it's tappets are tappeting.  They make a noise that resembles a sub-machine gun going off at full blast. My friends casually raise a hand in greeting without taking the trouble to turn their heads to look at me.  They know who it is by the sound of the engine.
Everyone else dives into the bushes.
And to add insult to injury, the starter motor is playing up.  Or, I should say, it's playing dead - for at least four turns of the key.  I've got a stone in the car that I use to beat it into submission.  I was told this was the thing to do but I'm not so sure.  It doesn't seem to be the slightest bit afraid of me and I've no doubt that it'll take revenge and refuse to start at all when it's most inconvenient - and raining.  It's the same stone that I used on my last car.  With that one I used it to hit the battery connection whenever it decided to take the day off and so the stone has become a very necessary part of my mechanical tool kit.

Finally in this tale of woe, the loo has broken.  I don't know who decided to manufacture a ballcock and all the trimmings out of plastic, but it was not a good idea.  At least with old fashioned copper you could bend the arm and lower the ballcock so the water switched off before reaching the overflow.  Not so with plastic.  It simply breaks. Which mine did.
The result was a constant trickle of water through the overflow pipe.  It ran down the outside wall and could have threatened the foundations if left that way.  Not being able to afford plumber's rates at the moment (children, become plumbers or electricians, trust me, you'll never be poor) I had to resort to ingenuity.  Being unable to turn off the stopcock (it was jammed for some reason) I stuck a screwdriver into the cistern to hold up the ballcock so as to slow down the flow of water, rammed a hosepipe into the overflow pipe outside, covered the join with duct tape and ran the hose around to the veggie plot. At least in the short term the water wasn't being wasted and as we don't have a hosepipe ban up here, it was perfectly legal.

My business partner came to the rescue.  She very kindly brought over some new parts for the cistern, reached in to lift up the plastic arm and snapped the joint completely.  Water shot up out of the pipe, hit the shelf above and soaked us.
With great presence of mind she covered the breach with her hand while I rushed to find the duct tape, while shouting something along the lines of the little Dutch boy, thumbs and sea walls.  She wasn't impressed.  Maybe she thought she'd have to stay in the bathroom for five days or however long it took for him to be discovered.
I eventually tracked down the tape (it was still outside - see above) and we repaired the joint.  She did manage to turn off the stop-cock completely, but unfortunately the bits she'd brought for the repair didn't fit.
Now going to the loo has become quite an experience.
I have to turn on the stop-cock, let the water fill the cistern and then switch it back off otherwise water floods the bathroom.  The overflow can no longer cope with the rush of water as my screwdriver/hosepipe system is defunct.
This is all very well, but, as all ladies of a certain age know, time is not always of the essence when needing  the loo.  But at least it amuses my grandchildren.

So if there is a mechanically/electrically minded plumber out there who would take pity on a poor old soul and come to her assistance, your help would be gratefully appreciated.  And while you are here, is there any chance that you could cast your eyes over the sealant around the bath?  It's not looking too good either...