Jack Was Nimble, Jack Was Quick

I had to draw a plan of the cable runs at The Homestead this morning and while I was doing it my long-winded sister phoned. This put me back and I missed the decent light. :(

I got to Fishers Green at around three. As I was getting my kit out of the boot a vehicle drew up. I wondered whether it would be a fisherman, a walker, a togger or a dog walker. It was the latter. A lovely little black and tan Border Terrier ran towards me. The old man with it was apologetic as it jumped up at me. "Sorry, he loves women." I told the man not to worry as I love dogs and asked the terrier's name. I thought maybe he couldn't remember it as he faltered. "I'm embarrassed, he's Bosie, my wife called him that, she died last year, now I look after him." How sad for him and the dog, which misses his mistress. Maybe the old boy is sensitive about the name Bosie, the male lover of Oscar Wilde?

I was hoping to see the bittern that had been spotted earlier in the day. No luck but I met some nice birders in the hide and a man with his lovely border collie which I have IGd in the past.

The light was awful but all the birds were fishing successfully. A coot caught a fish that was stolen by a great crested grebe and Jack Heron had two in his beak at one point.