The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 2073 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

After what seemed like an interminable ride in the coach we arrived at the edge of the woodland which was now a listed nature reserve, and which I hoped would soon have planning permission for the visitor and study centre. The revised schedule suggested it would take three years to construct the centre and parking facilities, meanwhile I would agree for improved access in the way of paths through the woodland, which could be built by volunteers supervised by one or two professional foresters we’d have to employ or borrow from the Forestry Commission. As they were keen to see the woodland protected they sounded quite helpful in terms of loaning us expertise to build the tracks or paths, and we had a quarry owner who had a soft-spot for dormice, having apparently fallen in love with the critters after watching my film. I promised to show him a dormouse in the wild and in return he offered us ten tons of gravel to use for paths.

Thankfully, he’d fallen in love with Spike, not her carer. She could sleep with him if she liked because I sure wasn’t going to.

We disembarked the bus and I got everyone to stand around me as I explained what was going to happen. I asked them to keep quiet if they could or to talk quietly if they had to or we wouldn’t see much in the way of mammals or birds. My colleague was the botanist and would identify plants and fungi, I’d do as much of the rest as I could. Finally, I gave out my mobile number and asked them not to wander off, but if anyone got lost to call me and we’d try and find them or obviously if anyone felt ill or tired. It was going to be a leisurely stroll for three hours and the coach would be back to collect them at twelve thirty, it now being nine thirty.

The coach drove off probably with half the group’s belongings–nah, that only happens with teenagers–no it doesn’t, we had two who’d left stuff on the bus. My colleague phoned the bus company to make the driver aware of these treasures, one was a camera the other a handbag. Who brings a handbag on a field trip? Oh boy, this could be a long morning.

About fifty yards from where everyone was still standing about counting their belongings or looking for their marbles, I spotted something, a small dark bundle lying on the edge of the road. While they were annoying my colleague, I walked down to the object. It was a road kill, a small dark animal perhaps eighteen inches long, quite a long body and tail with shortish legs. It was lying on its back and a glance told me what it was. I took a photograph for my records and checked the GPS reading.

One or two of the group noticed me and wandered up to see what I was doing. “What is it?” asked a lady of mature years.

I addressed her companions, “Anyone like to guess what it is?”

The three of them looked at each other but none were forthcoming. I tried to encourage them. “Go on have a guess, it doesn’t matter if you’re wrong.”

Still nothing but mumbles and mutters. More encouragement; “What sort of animal does it look like?” They just shrugged. The long morning was getting longer by the moment. “Is it a rabbit?”

They all said no and chuckled.

“So what sort of critter is it?” I asked the now burgeoning group.

“Some sort of predator,” ventured one old chap.

“Good, now what sort of predators have we got in this country?”

“Fox,” voiced one and they all laughed.

I interceded to try and spare the blushes. “No, you’re quite right a fox is a predator, actually quite a useful hunter of small furry things and earthworms, as well as your dustbin. But this clearly isn’t a fox, so what is it?”

“A baby badger?” suggested one middle aged woman and two or three laughed. I quickly closed them down.

“It isn’t a badger, but you’re in the right area, it is a mustelid, the family of badgers weasels and otters. So which one is this?”

“It’s not an otter, is it?” asked one incredulous man.

“Uh no, it isn’t.”

“Don’t be silly, otters live in rivers,” chided his wife–it had to be his wife the way she spoke to him.

“Actually, otters will cross quite large areas of dry land to get to rivers or lakes,” I corrected her and he smiled.

There were various other guesses–all wrong. Perhaps they were better at bird-watching, we’d find out soon enough. I knelt down and pointed out the light creamy coloured fur under the mouth and absence of it on the throat or chest. “This is a polecat. If it had the light colour on the throat or chest it would be a polecat-ferret. Polecats are more common to the west of the country and Wales but they are increasingly turning up in the east and south. They’re prodigious hunters of rabbits and other mammals and like stoats and weasels are quite capable of killing a fully grown rabbit. They’ll also take ground nesting birds or their young. Like most hunters, they’re opportunists.”

I got a round of applause–perhaps the morning’s improving? Several took photos and then we moved on into the wood. A great-spotted woodpecker flew across the path in front of us and began drumming on a dead tree. Those who could hear it were quite pleased, some hadn’t heard a drumming woodpecker since they were kids.

I pointed out tree creepers, nuthatches, buzzards and a sparrow hawk which flashed past us and up into a tree. My colleague identified all sorts of bits of greenery, some of which I knew and plenty I didn’t. When we’d got about half way, that is about ninety minutes of our walk, I told them to wait. I walked briskly into the woodland and checked a couple of dormouse boxes. Both had material in them–my luck could be in. I stuffed a handful of leaves in the entrance holes and took them off the trees and up to the waiting group who were buzzing with excitement. I asked them to be quiet and then went through the procedure of checking the box.

I handed a large clear plastic bag to my colleague and asked her to open it, I stood the first nest box in the bag and carefully lifted off the lid. You could almost smell the excitement in the group. I then poked a finger in the box starting in the middle of the nesting material and out of the one corner shot a dormouse, though in the bag, it couldn’t go anywhere. There were gasps and sighs–this was magic, the magic only a truly wild animal can produce and they were loving it–not sure about the dormouse though.

I continued to check the box and another popped out. We had two dormice, not bad for a casual check. I removed the box, having ensured there were no further occupants and showed them how we grab the mouse in the corner of the bag and then pulled out one of them, a young male. I held it for them to take photos and finish drooling over it. A few minutes later we shoved them both back into the nest box–inside the bag again and closed up the lid.

Box number two was empty, though there was recently added nesting material. The group waited while I restored the boxes to their respective trees. The rest of the walk went by quickly. They were all very pleased with what they saw, the smallest was a lacewing, the largest animal, a roe deer which went crashing into the undergrowth as we approached.

The coach arrived on time and they were all pleased to get on board, especially those who’d left possessions behind on it. They were safely recovered and the driver thanked. I was glad to see him refuse a tip from one of them.

Back at the university we disembarked them and off they went, pockets full of dormouse gnawed hazel shells and tales of having seen a polecat and a dormouse–what more could anyone want, except perhaps a sit down and a good lunch?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_polecat