I was not aware the hunt would be in my area that day because I did not get an email notification as on previous occasions. The first I was aware of anything was when 2 red coated huntsmen stopped outside my garden and several large hounds leapt over my 5-bar gate knocking Harry over.
I chased these hounds out over the gate but more hounds kept entering my garden through the fence. To my astonishment the two huntsmen did nothing to call their hounds off or attempt to control them in any way and just sat there totally oblivious to what was going on. I called out to them to get their dogs out of my garden but I did not even receive an acknowledgment from these individuals who ignored me and acted as if I were a piece of dirt on the bottom of their shoe.
The two huntsmen then rode off back towards Woodcroft Road with some of the dogs, but a large number of hounds broke away and ran through my fencing into my paddocks and proceeded to gallop around. The main group of hounds eventually exited my fields by the stone bridge where they broke my fencing and knocked it totally over. However, a small group of 5 hounds ran along the fence line into the top paddock where they upset my old horse Dan who was grazing there and then proceeded to bay incessantly while routing around in the hedge and ditch at the top corner of the paddock.
At this point let me just say that I do not blame the hounds in any way. They are nice looking dogs, a bit like large pointers and they are only trying to please those that are "in charge" of them and exploiting and encouraging their basic hunting instincts. They are kept in a large group, in a semi-feral state and not given the opportunity to develop their own personalities, characters and intelligence via interaction with humans as canine individuals. The same goes for the horses kept outside in the freezing cold and the rain without any rugs or shelter and in the heat of the sun with no shade or protection from the plague of biting and stinging insects. Again so many beautiful horses that will not make old bones as they will be discarded as soon as they get an injury, shot dead, fed to the hounds and replaced with another unfortunate equine.
Of course I knew why the hounds had entered my garden and paddocks. They had obviously got scent of the foxes that live nearby and who come onto my land. These are the foxes I feed every evening. The adult pair had 3 or 4 cubs this summer and they lived under the hedge in the ditch at the top of my field. I loved watching the babies play so happily throughout those long warm sunny evenings. Every so often they would dart into the ditch only to emerge again and play fight with their siblings, rolling each other over and gamboling about. It is some time now since I saw the youngsters and I can only hope that they have now grown up and moved on out into the wider world to establish their own territories.
To my horror the rude huntsmen rode around the back of my paddocks and stopped on the farmland the other side of the hedge. I charged up there desperate to stop them just in case any of the foxes were sheltering in the ditch. Despite me repeatedly telling the hunters to get the hounds out of my paddock, they first just ignored me and then merely replied that the dogs weren't in my garden, to which I informed them the paddocks where mine, I rented them from Milton Estates and my contact specifies that "the Landlord is to allow the Tenant to possess and use the Property without lawful interference from the Landlord or anyone who derives title form the Landlord or any trustee for the Landlord". I also informed them that I had a very old horse in that paddock and didn't want him upset by large numbers of hounds on the land.
The red-haired huntsmen rudely told me to be quiet and that they were trying to get the dogs out, however this was patently untrue since they were not attempting to call the dogs off or sound the horn. They were merely sitting quietly on their horses while the dogs bayed and routed around in the hedge and the ditch. It was obvious that they were seeing if they could flush one of my foxes out of the hedge. In desperation I kept telling them to get their hounds out of my paddocks. The dark-haired huntsmen then arrogantly told me to shut up. At this point I gave him a piece of my mind. My husband then appeared on the scene and shouted angrily at them to get the hounds out of the field. At this the huntsmen seemed to take notice and rode off with the hounds.
The huntsmen in charge of the pack of hounds were clearly unwilling and at times unable to control their dogs’ behaviour. It is unrealistic to expect anyone to control such a large pack of hounds running loose. A pack of hounds charging around a village is a constant liability and threat to private property, the safety of pets, livestock and property.
At no point did these people apologise for the hounds being out of control, entering my property and causing distress to my animals and myself. Nor did I receive an apology from them for breaking my fence. I was really upset and just thankful that they had not succeeded in finding one of my foxes, as they would have aimed to tear it to shreds in front of me.
What would I have done? I could not have just stood by and witnessed this horrific murder. I could not have lived with myself. It would have haunted me for ever. I know I would have run into the field to stop them, I would have warded off the bird of prey that they use to tear the foxes to shreds I would have put myself between their guns and the fox and they would have had to shoot me first.
I spent that evening writing an angry email to one of the hunt masters complaining vociferously about the conduct of their hunt. I was so upset about the events of that afternoon that I even forgot to leave food out for the foxes, but in any event I hadn’t seen “Foxy” waiting outside to be fed at dusk as per usual and I thought that he was probably too disturbed to return to my paddock that evening. I just hoped that he and his friend were OK and had managed to survive the day.
To my surprise I actually did receive an email acknowledgement from one of the hunt masters regarding my complaint with an apology and an undertaking to look into what had happened with the person who was in charge of the meet that day. Then another of the hunt masters came round to say sorry. He spoke to my husband as I was not available at the time, but my husband said he was very apologetic. The same hunt master came round again to repair my fence and at that time he saw me in the garden and came over to apologise once more. To give him his due, he was very polite and wasn’t at all arrogant. I told him that I was very unimpressed by the rude behaviour of the huntsmen and the whole episode had been totally unacceptable and distressing. I told him that hunting was not something that I was happy about and that I did not want to see it from my back garden.
He told me that the hunt already had a lot of bad press and that the last thing they needed was to upset residents of the village. He added that the hunt was not supposed to have been in the village and that they were going to have a meeting to go over everything that had happened and some changes would have to be made, especially since a lot of people did not like hunting and the hunt needed to respect people’s sensibilities.
It remains to be seen whether this whole sorry episode will result in any change of behaviour on their part, but perhaps I might just have saved my special foxes by giving them a sanctuary within our village. I am only sorry that I cannot spread this sanctuary wide enough to encompass all hunted creatures.
The following evening while I was at the gate talking to a customer I saw “Foxy” slinking back across my field and when I went out to feed him he was there curled up on the grass a few yards from my garden fence as usual. He was on his own without his more nervous companion, but I hoped in time the other fox would re-appear. I was finally rewarded when last night I went out and they were there together both sitting up like a smart pair of dogs and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the more nervous fox had plucked up the courage to come closer to my fence. Such beautiful, iconic creatures, such short harsh lives...