Harriet and a Moment in Comer Wood by Irena Szirtes

Credit: Irena Szirtes

“Old dogs can be a regal sight. 

Their exuberance settles over the years into a seasoned nobility.” 

Gail Caldwell

   

Mist stole through Comer Wood, fingering our faces, flaunting the scent of soaked pines, in case we should take the beauty of fresh winter days for granted.

Credit Irena Szirtes

We were transfixed, like my terrier and I, all those years ago. But neither snow nor wild geese arrested us: it was a badger. He limped toward us, paused nearby, and gazed. I quietly clipped on Harriet's leash, though our eyes were locked on the badger. Somehow, we all understood what this moment was. It was not about looking, so much as truly seeing: savouring the essence of a different being with unfettered awe. Yet the moment was bitter-sweet. Mists, chill and grey now, began fingering my mind, agitating with the

Credit: Irena Szirtes

“You see Badger, but do you see Harriet today? Really see? Do you really see?”

  Reluctantly, I understood. It was strange the badger had confidence to show himself, and stranger still that Harriet stood content. She would once have protested fiercely, because giving chase to badgers was off-limits. As we continued to gaze, cold thoughts began whispering again and again, 

“Harriet is growing old! Harriet is growing old!” 

 

Harriet                                                                        Credit: Irena Szirtes

 I had simply failed to notice she wasn't tracking rabbits so far, or so often. When had she last run in crazy circles, throwing, dropping, catching or scooping up my glove? How long since she and Cassie raced, splashed in water or dug holes together, delighting in each others silliness? When Cassie succumbed to old age some months before, Harriet had still seemed well and strong. But she was definitely slower now, less inclined to range in circles in, then out of, my sight.

   Suddenly, the moment was broken. Harriet decided she was not quite ready to forsake the pleasures of youth. As flattened lurcher ears rose almost imperceptibly, the badger took off on three legs, with an astonishing turn of speed, and disappeared into the bracken.

  Harriet seemed convinced the badger knew she was indeed a Lurcher of noble stock, not to be trifled with despite advancing years. 

“Never forget whom I was born to be,” she’d told him, “And do not imagine the woods are yours if a Lurcher wanders there!”

  But I couldn't enjoy the rest of our walk. Cold mists were still snaking around my mind, and the breezes persisted, 

“There was a time you didn't want her, wasn't there, wasn't there?” 

Guilty. She had been so very messed up; I was afraid I’d never win her.

“Non-Lurcher life cannot be imagined, can it? Cannot be imagined, can it?”

True. Our bond had become so deep and intuitive, we each knew what the other was thinking.

 “How do you know what she wants?” Andy would often ask. Harriet and I were living a kind of shared life. I hadn't considered I would one day be without her.

   She, however, remained a little jaunty. I suspect she sang the Lurchers’ ancient badger song that night, and had badgers inhabit her dreams. There is deep respect between badgers and lurchers, though neither openly own it. To avoid conflict, both proffer traditional songs, full of posturing and bravado. Perhaps the badger sang his song too, dreaming of when he learnt it, breathing his mother's scent in deep dark tunnels, his tiny belly warm, and swollen with milk.

Credit: Irena Szirtes

   The Lurchers' song: Lord of the Wild Wood.

  

Lord of the Wild Wood you might be,

Strutting by moonlight, master-less, free-

Ancient pathways you might keep,

Trodden long years as lapdogs sleep-

But do not imagine the woods are yours 

When a Lurcher wanders there,

If a Lurcher wanders there, 

If a Lurcher wanders there!

   

Dreaded night-bear, King of the dark,

Guard your pathways, scent and mark:

Yes! you rule beneath the ground,

But see! Here run keen-hearted hounds,

So do not imagine the woods are yours 

When a Lurcher wanders there, 

If a Lurcher wanders there,

If a Lurcher wanders there!

   

Bear of the earth, whose curving claws

Are fearsome as those iron jaws,

 Renowned in legend you might be-

Bombastic make-believe we see!

So do not imagine the woods are yours 

When a Lurcher wanders there, 

If a Lurcher wanders there,

If a Lurcher wanders there!

    

Lord of the Wood, how can it be

Such lofty might and majesty

Hides from daylight, clings to the dark?

Bear of the earth, can it just be

That Lurchers rule for all to see?

  Ha! Do not imagine the woods are yours 

When a Lurcher wanders there, 

If a Lurcher wanders there! 

Ha! Do not imagine the woods are yours,  

For Lurchers wander there,

YES! Lurchers wander there.......HA! 

 breeze, 

Credit: Irena Szirtes

The Badgers' song: Oust those Lurchers!

 

Badgers are we, king-hearted and strong,

   Fierce, independent, no need to belong 

To mankind!

Your insolent song boasts woods are not ours,

Imagines out hunting we're looking behind, 

Looking behind for you!

Lurchers are you, keen- hearted and strong,

    Fierce, independent but need to belong

To mankind-

Triumphant, we sing all wild woods are ours,

Knowing out hunting you're looking behind,

Looking behind for us!

Badgers royal, Badgers strong

Come rise up tall and

Roar our song!

There's no back down in our ranks

So Lurchers flee, and 

Give your thanks

You have another place to go,

Back to your pens and back to your men,

Regretting you tangled with Badgers again!

Badgers royal, Badgers strong 

Who yield no ground

Come, roar our song! 

To Badgers, yes, Wild woods belong!

   Oust those Lurchers, 

That is our song! 

Musical accompaniments by Andrew Szirtes. 

Comer Woods            credit: Irena Szirtes