More about Rodents!

Well friends, after my thrillingly close encounter with a field vole last week, who can blame me for wanting to devote this week's Nature Friday post to the exciting topic of rodents? 

I have been doing some research.

First, let's find out which rodents I might see out in the wild in the UK. Here's a list I found on the Mammal Society's website: 

Rodentia (Rodents)

• Red squirrel – Sciurus vulgaris (N)
• Grey squirrel – Sciurus carolinensis (I)
• Eurasian beaver – Castor fiber (N)
• Hazel dormouse – Muscardinus avellanarius (N)
• Edible dormouse – Glis glis (I)
• Bank vole – Myodes glareolus (N)
• Field vole – Microtus agrestis (N)
• Water vole – Arvicola amphibius (N)
• Harvest mouse – Micromys minutus (N)
• Wood mouse – Apodemus sylvaticus (N)
• Yellow-necked mouse – Apodemus flavicollis (N)
• House mouse – Mus musculus (N)
• Brown rat – Rattus norvegicus (I)
• Black rat – Rattus rattus (I)

You'll have guessed, correctly, that (N) denotes a native species and (I) introduced. 

Now I think we can all agree that the native red squirrel, pictured below, is much cutest of our two 'tree rat' species. 

The North American grey squirrel, first introduced into parks and gardens in the 1870s, has come to dominate in most areas, but I am pleased to report that it has been all but eradicated from Aberdeen (how I would love to have helped), and the pretty little reds, prolific in the hinterland, are slowly returning to the city.

Let's now consider the voles. Three species here, field, bank and water. Gail's favourite book from childhood was Kenneth Grahame's 'Wind in the Willows', and she says she wouldn't forgive me if I ever harmed 'Ratty', pictured below on the river with his dear friend 'Mole'.

'Ratty' is misleadingly named, being in fact a water vole and not a rat. In the story he claims "there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats". However I do not believe that this is an accurate representation of normal water vole behaviour.

Sticking with literature for a moment, you might remember the Dormouse from 'Alice in Wonderland', present but mostly asleep at the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.

In this case, it seems the author, Lewis Carroll, got it right. Hazel dormice not only hibernate but go into a state of 'torpor' when the temperature drops, and so spend up to three-quarters of the years in some form of 'sleep' state. Also, they only come out at night, so are rarely seen.

Lastly, we turn to the beaver. These largest of our rodent species were hunted to extinction in the UK 400 years ago but have now been successfully reintroduced (albeit not without controversy) in several parts of the country. Gail and I would both, perhaps for different reasons, love to see beavers in the wild in our part of Scotland. We suspect they would be more active than the one featured in this Gary Larson cartoon...

Happy Nature Friday friends! Thanks to the  LLB Gang for once again hosting our favourite blog hop.

A lovely outing. For some.

It all looked so promising on Saturday morning when Gail loaded me into the car and drove the short distance down to the mouth of Aberdeen harbour. We parked in the usual place and I was keenly anticipating a lively romp on the city beach. 

But, I'm sorry to report, things went downhill from then on. (Metaphorically, that is. One can't actually go down hill when standing right beside the harbour.)

First, we walked a very short distance to our friends M and J's car. M is usually such a reliable source of treats designed for big dogs, but she had inexplicably failed to bring any on this occasion.

Then Gail walked me back to our car and put me in the boot. She moved the vehicle to a shady spot, opened the windows a little and topped up my water bowl.

You'll have guessed what this meant. 

In truth I don't mind being left a while in the car. It's a comfy environment - a good place for a snooze, or one can look out the window and watch the passers by. But gosh Gail was gone for a long time. 

I waited patiently, and just as I was beginning to wonder if she would ever return, I heard the click of the car door being opened remotely. Then there was Gail, smelling rather fishy. (Literally, not metaphorically, this time). 

So it seems she'd been with M, J and their friend K, enjoying a meal at the 'Silver Darling', a renowned Aberdeen restaurant overlooking the harbour and the beach. They were celebrating M's birthday and M and J's 56th wedding anniversary. Apparently the food had been splendid, especially the seafood platter, although one has to ask, can a restaurant that doesn't allow dogs inside really be all that great? 

Finally it was time for the beach, and more disappointment to come. 

Most times of year I get to race around on the sands to my little heart's content. But on Saturday Gail decreed I must be kept on my lead and we'd just walk along the promenade. How I would have loved to go down and share some of the picnic food being consumed by the beachgoers, and assist the young children digging sandcastles.

Later at home, Gail showed me some holiday photos from an old family album. It seems she and her brother enjoyed playing on the beach too, when they were children.

Gail with her father and brother, Isle of Wight, summer 1966

Excitement on Morven

I'm afraid Gail failed to take a photo of last week's most important and exciting event. 

It took place during a walk with Gail and her friend Henry, on Morven, a favourite Aberdeenshire hill.

Gail did at least get a picture of me near the summit cairn, only a short while before and only a few meters from where the exciting and important event took place.

 

So let me tell you what happened next.

As Gail and her friend Henry started the descent, I wandered 'off-piste'. Not an unusual occurrence. 

I heard Gail shouting "Come Nobby, COME!" but a rustling noise in the moss and stunted heather had captured my attention.

I pounced on this wriggling little furry creature, which started squeaking, just like one of my toys, as I held it between my jaws.  

What fun! I was happily entertaining myself, dropping my squeaky new plaything, then picking it up again, when Gail approached and rudely dragged me away.

"Leave it Nobby, LEAVE IT!"

Stupidly, on reflex I relaxed my hold and watched my prize catch scuttle off into the low growing vegetation. I could not follow as Gail had for once moved fast and clamped on my lead before I realized what she was up to. 

But later, I did feel rather proud when Gail said to Henry that in nearly 24 years of owning terriers, this the first time one had actually caught a rodent* in her presence.

*Gail says: I'm pretty sure it was a field vole - they are apparently known to have a squeak that sounds like a child's toy. I am more than a little surprised that the vole apparently survived the encounter with Nobby's jaws, although I fear it would have suffered psychological damage, at the very least! 

A different relationship to gravity...

Another special post today, combining the LLB Gang's Nature Friday blog hop with our friend YAM-aunty's Final Friday Feature.

A Young Dog Ascends Beinn Alligin, 22 July, 2023

Nobby, do you have springs for paw pads?

Did Oscar Pistorius

Lend you his blades?

Or is there perhaps,

Hidden in those wiry haunches,

A micro-motor stolen from

A cheating rider in the Tour de France?

Maybe you made a secret pact,

With Isaac Newton, thus to counteract,

The laws of gravity?

I cannot otherwise explain,

How you dance up

Our steepest Scottish peaks

With such apparent ease and grace.

So light of foot, 

A wonder to behold,

While I clomp slowly, far behind,

Feeling rather old. 

Inappropriately named?

On the way home from Torridon on Sunday we stopped off for a walk by the marina in Nairn and I ran into Massimo, a fellow wire-haired fox terrier.

It turns out we are half-brothers, both being fathered by JimBob of Craigmancie Foxies. But I have to say I am quite a bit taller than Massimo, despite being a year younger.

Gail had a nice long chat with wee Massimo's humans, Fraser and Nancy, who live in Elgin. I believe that Massimo means "biggest" in Italian and I am pleased to say Gail was tactful enough not to point out that perhaps Fraser and Nancy had not chosen the most appropriate name for their dog...

PS from Gail: it's not very apparent from my photos, but Nobby really was distinctly the larger of the two WFTs.