Many of you may have already heard about our wee orphan reindeer, Fergus, who we have had the joy of hand rearing this summer. Sadly his mum died when he was just 10 days old but he got several very eager human mums instead, not least myself who has gone completely maternal over him, worrying about him on his first day up the hill (like it’s his first day at school!), texting when I’m away to make sure he has had his milk on time and collecting him fine lichens and bouquets of heather when I’m out on walks!
Fergus quickly adapted to life without his reindeer mum and was very tame from the start. He also befriended the dogs! Wolves are reindeer’s biggest natural predator so it’s an unusual relationship to say the least.
Murdo was besotted with him when he was tiny. Couldn’t take his eyes off him!While Murdo’s love faded slightly as Fergus grew (food is always his first love!) he made a lifelong pal with Tiree!
Fergus began his life down at the centre so that we could bottle feed him easily and he hung out with the reindeer in the paddocks, but right from the start Fergus was very happy wandering around the house and quick to seek out a comfy bed! He tried quite a few…
A feed bowl was a perfect bed when he was tiny, but the rug on my bedroom floor was better when he needed to really stretch out!
He soon discovered that dog beds were the best bet…
His favourite one is Tiree’s. The office bed was quickly outgrown.
Fergus loves his milk and is always on the hunt for a possible udder! This involves butting us very violently at times and looking in some unusual places:
Maybe there’s one in the sofa cover? ….or in this duvet?
As soon as we could we began taking him up the mountain to spend the day with the herd, to teach him to be a proper reindeer. He loves his walk up the hill first thing and usually does a few wee skips of joy along the way.
On the path up to the hill enclosure, Sookie leading the way, then trotting over Utsi’s bridge.With our volunteer Charlie, walking along with the rest of the herdReturn transport to the Centre is in the back of the reindeer van, with good company.
He also likes his walks around Glenmore in the evenings; he gets some exercise and some tasty snacks along the way:
Visiting the village shop to fetch some milk, and snacking on lichen lollipops on the way
Recently Fergus went on his first half day trek as he needs to get fit for the time when he will go out free-ranging with the herd. He loved it and had a great time eating all the new plants he found along the way.
Fergus trekking to the top of Silver Mount, 644m, the highest he has ever been. He needed a nap half way round!
Fergus is a bit of a local celebrity and has been in two local papers; people come from far and wide to see him….
Fergus’s story in the Press and Journal. Check this out boys, what is it???
Fergus has been a great source of entertainment and joy to all of us. He is definitely in the “terrible twos” stage at the moment, always up to antics and eating and drinking things he is not supposed to:
Checking out the wine cork and sneaking into the feed mix bag…
Finally, now the rutting season is about to begin and all the boys are busy stripping their velvet and revealing their splendid antlers, we felt Fergus needed a helping hand as his antlers are just tiny wee ones right now…
But whilst these pictures may give you the impression that Fergus is a house pet, we have to assure you that the majority of his time is now spent with the herd on the mountains – he is a “big boy” now and will very soon spend all his time up there, enjoying the views and the natural life of a Cairngorm Reindeer.
Mel
Watch this space for more news on the adventures of Fergus!!!
Catriona keeping everything in order in the Reindeer House office
The heading tells it all. I am the oldest person working at the Reindeer Centre and, at the age of 71 years, it really makes me feel a lot younger mixing with all the youngsters who work there.
Officially, I am the book keeper for the Reindeer Company, but my role involves lots of other jobs from Agony Aunt when hearts are broken, to financial advisor when the young ones are starting out in life and need some good sound motherly advice.
I started working with the Reindeer Company approx 15 years ago, and have seen lots of people coming and going in that time. It is always a lovely family atmosphere at the Centre and throughout all the different years I have made some really good friends.
Sometimes in my job I have to help the staff understand the rules of book keeping but they all seem to accept my advice and “do as they are told” to get it all correct. They dread it when they see me reaching for the RED pen, reminds them of school!
Last Summer my grandson, Christopher, came to work at the Centre for one week doing work experience, and got a gold star for his efforts from Tilly, Alan, Alex and Fiona, so maybe a future generation of my family may carry on working amongst the reindeer.
Some of the shop customers are really envious of us here having such a wonderful view of the Cairngorm Mountains and one lady said you must have the best job in Scotland looking at that view every day. We are indeed very fortunate.
We’re lucky to see some pretty awesome wildlife whilst looking after the reindeer on the mountains, but its less usual to see wildlife in our back porch. We were taken by surprise last week when we glanced out the back door and saw a rather worked up male sparrowhawk, who had somehow flown in then lost the door out… thankfully we were able to sneak past and open up the door for him to “escape”.
We were pretty delighted to see a sparrowhawk close up, as the normal view of them is them dashing over at top speed, and even happier to see him fly safely away!
First off, I’m not talking about the reindeer in that heading. Reindeer only fly at Christmas time after Santa has given them the magic powder and our lovely reindeer don’t attack.
I am of course talking about the flying mini beasts – flies, bugs and, the worst of the worst, midges. Scotland wouldn’t be Scotland without those little terrors, and they are a sign that summer has finally arrived here in Cairngorm, but they aren’t my friends. We love this infomatic from Mackays Holidays:
No one here likes the midge, including the reindeer. With the heat rising above 20°C and them still having some of their winter coat, our boys are feeling the heat. In hot weather we often give them access to the shed to hide from the heat – you’d be amazed how many come running out at feeding time.
They are also bothered by the flies and midges, but there’s not much we can do there, apart from douse them with fly repellent. As much as I’d like to eradicate midge for both my own and the reindeer’s comfort, they are an important food source for birds, toads and frogs, and bats.
Our boys cope with the midges fairly well; in the paddocks they hide under our shelter shed and up on the hill avoid stagnant pools where midge breed and shake to get rid of the biting bullies. Sometimes it’s like watching a little reindeer dance: they stomp their back foot a few times, then the other, a little shake, a few more stomps, and then if the midges are really ferocious, they’ll burst off in a sprint, jumping and kicking the air. It’s quite funny to watch!
We also spotted Oryx doing something a bit odd. It was the end of a visit, and we were heading to the gate to leave the enclosure. A few boys followed us, no doubt thinking there’d be more food. There’s a large muddy patch just at the gate, which usually the reindeer don’t bother with, but this time Oryx got into the big puddle and just stood there. He seemed pretty content, so he was left to his own devices while Fran and I did some poo picking (the glamorous lives we lead). Eventually he decided his spa treatment was finished and got out of the mud bath. He looked ridiculous with mud socks up to his ankles, but he seemed pretty happy with himself.
Oryx enjoying the mud
It’s known that red deer wallow, or bathe in mud, but the cause for this is still unknown. Some think it may be to reduce ectoparasites, while others believe it is to cool down. I’m not sure it’s ever been recorded in reindeer before (a quick Google search didn’t come up with much) but I think Oryx may have been trying to avoid the midges biting at his legs. Either that or he fancied a quick mud treatment at the ‘Spa de le Cairngorm’.
Every year we reindeer herders have a little flutter into betting around calving time of year – the idea is to pick a reindeer you think is going to calve first and if your reindeer calves last you have to take an icy dip into Loch Morlich. As you can imagine this makes it all the more serious and some proper consideration should always go into picking your ‘bet’ reindeer. This year turned into a two handed contest between Abby and Hen, and it was never going to end well for one of them…
The contenders: Hopscotch versus Lulu
Abby: Last year (my first calving) I took all the advice on board, I learned about families who calve early, I checked out tummy size and I looked at udder size; and ended up with a female who calved pretty near the beginning.
You would think that after a year of reindeer herding I’d enter this year’s bet with a bit more wisdom and expertise: after all, I’ve got to know the reindeer pretty well now. However, I committed the cardinal sin, and chose a reindeer who I just really liked before weighing up the facts properly. A lovely four year old called Hopscotch, and indeed she was pretty rotund looking when I picked her but there was no sign of an udder, but I’d made my choice and had to stick by it.
Hen: Bets have to be in by the end of April, and this year I went with Lulu. I had dutifully peered between hind legs at udders, assessed general belly size, and considered previous calving patterns, and Lulu seemed like a pretty safe bet. Everyone else made sensible bets too, with the exception of Abby. We ripped her to shreds continuously as she was very obviously going to end up in the loch, and deserved to as well – Hopscotch (daft choice, ha!) was looking pretty slim compared to everyone else’s bets, who were waddling around huffing and puffing.
Checking the pregnant cows early in the morning
Abby: By the 30th of April it all kicked off and the calving storm began – one by one the females started popping and one by one my colleagues became safe from the dreaded swim. By mid-May most of the females had calved and all that was left from the bet was me with Hopscotch and Hen with Lulu. Lulu was the size of a barge with an udder to match, and was like the vision of doom every time I saw her up the hill. I began to think myself very foolish indeed and resigned myself to the fact that a very cold swim was coming my way as there was no way Hopscotch would calve before an old pro like Lulu!
However, much to my surprise on Monday the 18th of May Hopscotch was missing, I was all a-flutter and stoked thinking that I was free of the swim and off we headed to track down her and her new calfie. We were, however, a wee bit disappointed, finding her on the top of Silver Mount (which is a very popular calving spot) chillin’ like a villain. There would be no calf today it seemed. It’s very common for reindeer to go off and faff about for up to a week before they actually give birth and I resigned myself to fact once again that I’d probably end up in the water. However the next day the same thing happened, no Hopscotch, hopes were high until once again she was found and pootled back to the herd quite happily but by our afternoon visit she was once again gone… this was it I thought. If a female goes missing in the afternoon a herder will head up the hill at the ungodly hour of 5am to track her down and this is just what I did! Once again she was on Silver mount (a bit of a shock for my legs that early in the morning – this is why reindeer herders get through so many biscuits!), but she didn’t look quite right and upon taking her temperature I realised she had an acute case of ‘Man Flu’! She got a wee dose of antibiotics before I popped her in with the cows and calves. 10 yards later she went down and in my head my thoughts ran along the lines of ‘Oh my god, I’ve killed a reindeer!’ until she started huffing and puffing away… she seemed to be going into labour! I left her to it and waited with glee to meet a new calfie in the afternoon.
Hen: I had foolishly chosen this week to have a few days off, and was away from home too. A smug text message on the Monday told me that Hopscotch was away to calve, but frantic texts from me after that, trying to gauge what was happening, mostly seemed to go unanswered or got a cryptic reply that didn’t really tell me what was going on. I started to sweat. Surely I wasn’t going to be beaten by Abby?! Having been here for a year, she is still ‘new’ compared to me – I’ve been a reindeer herder for over seven years and have experienced a lot more calving seasons than Abby, I should have been able to sail through the bet with no problems! Towards the end of the week I started to doubt myself.
Abby: By Wednesday afternoon Hopscotch was acting completely normally and stuffing her face with glee and was most definitely not giving birth. At this point I felt it was all a bit cruel and gave up on the idea of no swim and as Thursday rolled around with still no sign of a calf I decided it was definite.
Hen: I arrived home from my days off to discover Hopscotch had had a temperature but nothing else, and all was back to normal up the hill. Huge relief, false alarm and all that, and I went back to teasing Abby relentlessly about when she was going swimming! I was stupidly overconfident once again that I was completely safe, Lulu must surely calve any minute, but reindeer have a nasty way of bringing you back down to earth and the ringing phone the following morning signalled the end for me… Andi’s voice sounded like she was stifling the giggles, informing me that she’d just found Hopscotch with her new-born male calf. Abby collapsed in relief and I cursed Lulu, Hopscotch, everyone else and to be honest, reindeer in general.
Hopscotch and her new-born calf Kips
Being as it was about 8°C at this point, I was given until the end of June to swim. Loch Morlich is only a few hundred metres from Reindeer House, but at this time of year consists mainly of snow melt, and I am not someone to throw myself into cold water with abandon unless there’s a damn good reason.
Walking to my doom… Note the laughter on everyone else’s faces!
Summer didn’t arrive right until the end of June in the Cairngorms this year, so I bided my time and kept an eye on the forecast. I left my swim right till the bitter end, on 30th June, and at least the dogs had the decency to come in with me, although everyone else stuck to paddling! I don’t appear to have hypothermia either. Or at least not yet. Maybe it’ll be slow onset hypothermia.
Sookie at least joined me in the loch!
Lulu did eventually calve, far too late for Hen of course, completely unaware of everything that had been riding on her!
It’s always quite a contrast from central London where I work, to the hills of the Cairngorms, where I spend my holidays herding reindeer! This time I couldn’t get further away – a small group of reindeer herders headed up north to wildcamp at Sandwood Bay, one of the most northerly and remote beaches in Britain. After a long clear night (it didn’t really go dark), we headed back south to the Cairngorms where reindeer duties took over. It’s always very varied, from trekking to poop-scooping to manning the shop to taking guided visits.
Calving was finally coming to an end, one of the longest calving seasons there has been, so the last of the females were sent off to the free-range to get the best of the summer grazing on the high mountain tops with their calves, leaving just males in the enclosure to greet visitors. Apart from looking very scruffy at this time of year as their winter coats moult everywhere (I’ll be picking reindeer hair off my clothes for weeks to come in London!), they are also fairly greedy as they bulk up for the summer ahead of the rut in the autumn.
Sookie on the hills
Following a good day’s work at the centre or out in the hills, I headed back out into the mountains for the evenings with the dogs, up to the snow line (yes there’s still snow up here – even in midsummer), to blow the city cobwebs away overlooking the Lairig Ghru or the Northern Corries.
Everything up here functions on a different time-frame. Unlike the city there is rarely any rushing, and meeting people up in the hills is unusual so you have a good old natter. Although the physical work can sometimes be tiring (especially the arrival of the feed lorry and the heaving of seemingly endless sacks into the shed), it is also quite relaxing. More steady than stressful!
Evening walk with Murdo to the Loch
Though it’s only a week in the hills, I always get a bit of a jolt returning to city life and the morning commute on Monday! The noise and the people and work kicks in and feels a parallel universe to the reindeer and the hills.
Here at our Glenlivet farm one of the best times of day is the evening, when the reindeer are herded back out onto the hill for the night. As they slowly walk up through the birch wood, clicking as they go, the wood is alive with songbirds singing as they flit from tree to tree.
The birch wood is rich with young leaves to browse, moist tree lichens to nibble and underfoot fresh herbs and grasses to graze on. So the reindeer take a while to wend their way up to the top of the wood.
Yesterday evening as I reached the open hill with the reindeer in front of me, a pair of curlew were circling above us, madly calling and quite upset that we had disturbed them. Their calls became agitated and one of them landed in front of the reindeer and scuttled ahead trying to lead the reindeer away. It’s at this point that I realised why there is such a commotion. Minute, our biggest three year old bull with very long velvet antlers, was looking inquisitive with his nose close to the ground. Right in front of him was a brown and creamy white fluffy ball of young feathers, a curlew chick, probably only hatched the day before. Minute looked as surprised as the chick at their encounter and turned to join the herd while the wee chick scuttled into the rushes.
Peace returned as the reindeer headed for the hills and the parents of the chick realised the danger had gone. I walked back down through the wood, the sun setting and the songbirds still calling.
Having only been part of the Reindeer Centre team for a month, there are usually novel activities for me to take part in: shovelling bark chippings, painting benches or washing the van to name a few. However, I was not expecting to meet a calf, learn to lead reindeer, tag sheep and drive a Landrover all in the same day!
Meeting my first calf!
The day started off as usual, with Fiona and I checking on the free range female reindeer before heading off to feed the girls in the enclosure. We led the girls over to their usual feeding area, but someone refused to come. Considering she is one of our greediest reindeer, this was a little odd. She had been acting strange the previous day, running off on her own. I had since learnt that this was a sign she may be ready to calve, and I was thrilled to see a fuzzy ball of baby reindeer lying next to her when we went to check her. We led the pair into a smaller part of the enclosure to have a proper look at the calf and found out she was a girl. Obviously, I had to get a selfie with her.
We left the pair in peace and headed back to the Centre. We were going to the farm that afternoon so Fiona, Abby and I had an early lunch and hopped over to Tomintoul in the van. It was busy from the word go with sheep ear tagging. The ewes were almost finished when we arrived, but the rams were still waiting.
I was handed what looked like a pair of pliers and some plastic strips with numbers on them. Fiona and Abby knew exactly what to do and started catching sheep. I was a little overwhelmed until I realised, “Oh, these are the ear tags!” I snapped off a tag and tried to load it into the gun, but it was fiddly and I felt uncoordinated. Eventually I managed and felt quite pleased until I saw how quickly Tilly was loading them; I needed to speed up! I got the hang of it and by the time the rams came through I felt like a pro.
Some of our Soay rams
We then loaded the ewes and their lambs to be moved to the hill. I presumed we were doing the same with the rams until we started fencing off the garden. This seemed odd, but it turned out that’s where the rams were going. Abby and I were positioned to keep the rams from escaping onto the road while Tilly herded them out of the shed and down to the garden. The Soay sheep at the farm are much smaller than the ‘normal’ sheep you see in the field, and it was quite funny to see their legs going ten to the dozen as they ran to their new pasture. We fenced them in and went inside for a cup of tea before the real work began.
The reindeer herd is split into two in winter, with mainly females at Cairngorm and mainly males at the Cromdale hills. This reduces grazing pressure and stops the boys being bullied by angry, pregnant females! The boys have different grazing areas at different times of the year, and today they were due to be moved closer to the farm. To do this we had to lead each reindeer on a headcollar for a 30 minute walk. And there were a lot of reindeer to move.
We drove to the pen, where they had come in from the open mountainside for their breakfast earlier, and started selecting ones (ok, just whoever was closest really) to be led down the hill. I had never led a reindeer before, but had led a horse, so wasn’t feeling too nervous. All I really had to remember was “Don’t let go”. Because this was my first time, I was given only two very well natured boys. I was put in the middle of the group: boys at the front can be a little reluctant and boys at the back can be a little too enthusiastic to get going, so being in the middle meant a lovely, calm walk for me.
Walking reindeer over from their winter grazing
We headed off down the road: 6 herders and 19 reindeer. What a sight we must have been! The boys were all pretty well behaved, but were glad to be released when we reached the farm. In total we completed 5 runs, taking a car up to the pen each time. Luckily as the number of reindeer reduced we were able to spare people to drive back down, or we would have had to walk up one more time to retrieve our myriad of vans, cars and quad bikes.
After our last run was finished, Tilly, Alex and myself drove up in the Landrover to take the remaining cars home and tidy up a little after the reindeer. I’ve never driven a quad bike, so Tilly took that and Alex drove his van, so I was left with the old Landy. I hopped in the driver seat, after taking a minute to figure out how to get in (there’s a button on the handle, who knew!) and tried to move the seat forward. It budged a little, but not as far as I would have liked it to. I have the shortest legs in the world (maybe not, but that’s what it feels like) and could only just put the clutch all the way in, at a stretch. I put it in first, let off the hand brake, and immediately stalled. I put my hand down to turn the key and, no key. What? How is the thing even on? Turns out Landrovers, as well as having buttons on their handles, have keys on the wrong side. Suitably stressed as I had been overtaken by Tilly and was holding up Alex, I turned the key and set off. Excellent! I managed to get going. It was a very slow, very deliberate, and very bumpy ride back to the farm, but the Landy and I made it safely back; I even managed to reverse park it.
Finally, the sheep were sorted, the reindeer safely at their new grazing and all the vehicles back with their correct owner. We set off for home, stopping in at Grantown for a takeaway. Well, we surely deserved a treat after such a long, but rewarding, day!
