I have decided to run the Paris Marathon in April 2016, what have I let myself in for!
I will be raising money for Macmillan Cancer Support, aiming to reach a target of £1000. Luckily, working as a Reindeer Herder is fantastic fitness training….running around the mountains looking for free-ranging reindeer, carrying feed up the hill, running after non-conforming reindeer!….. and the years of ‘compulsory’ hill-running, prompted by Alan Smith, are going to set me in good stead, I hope! However, I still definitely need to train in long distances and having someone to run with always helps with motivation… and here are some of my eager running partners:
All the Reindeer House dogs… Tiree, Moskki, Tip, Sookie and Murdo (not pictured… off eating something no doubt!)… they never say no to a run… and of course Fergus!
Fergus offering some training tips from his months of running experience!
I chose to run for Macmillan as cancer seems to affect so many of us these days, whether directly or indirectly through friends or family. I am running the Marathon with one of my best friends, Ailsa, who hasn’t as much running experience as me but as she lost a friend recently to cancer she has been motivated to give it a go and I think it’s really brave of her so want to support her and raise money for a great cause. Macmillan nurses provide amazing support to people who are fighting cancer and their work is invaluable.
Fergus is providing fundraising support! I did try to persuade him to come to Paris too but he says he prefers the hills to the cities!
Fergus counting the donations so far…
If you would like to support me please donate by going to:
As many of you may know, the Reindeer Centre is not only home to many reindeer, but also several dogs. They are all perfectly unique in their look and personality, and don’t usually get in the way too much when we’re doing ‘reindeer stuff’.
There are three dogs here full time: Tiree, Sookie, and Murdoch. Sookie is a little older than the other two, but she can still rough and tumble like the best of them when she’s gone “wild” (by which we mean, she has a little bark and gets excited, but that’s about it). Tiree and Murdoch are the best of pals, and really enjoy having play fights. Sometimes these play fights sound vicious, but they’re all bark and no bite.
Broc, Murdoch and Sookie at the summit of Meall ‘a Bhuacaille
There are a couple of other regular visitors, Tip and Moskki. They are both ‘farm dogs’ and are full of energy. Although Moskki is small, she is always up for playing with the other, much larger dogs, and usually wins! She is also a complete sook and will climb onto your shoulder if you’re in the office for a cuddle and a perusal out the window at what’s going on. Tip is very much a ‘one man dog’ and adores Alex. She usually sleeps the day away when he’s not here, but when he is here, Tip is the most vocal of dogs. Ask her to “speak up” and she has a frighteningly loud bark!
Murdoch looking majestic on the way down Meall ’a Bhuachaille
And then there’s my pooch. He doesn’t often visit the Centre, but when he does, he’s a little overwhelmed by the madness. Broc is a Heinz 57 of a dog, and is middle aged at least. He loves to cuddle and sleep, and eat and sleep, and chase a ball and sleep. Basically, he is a sleeping machine, and can spend hours in bed quite happily. Here at the Centre, he doesn’t get much chance to sleep, and he disapproves of the young ones and their playing. He usually hangs around with me in the office and then will sit at the door and wait for me to come back if I dare to leave him. He is just a lot quieter than these dogs, but is usually fine after a few hours and after telling the other dogs to leave him alone.
Broc and Murdoch enjoying a walk
He recently came on his ‘holidays’ to the Centre when my partner and I attended a wedding in Dundee. I filled a huge box of food for him (as every protective mother likes to feed up their babies), left a whole load of Dentasticks, gave him a cuddle and left. I knew he would be well taken care of, and this was confirmed when I got a late night message from Abby, proclaiming Broc as the King of Reindeer House dogs. Now, you need to understand, in Reindeer House, the dogs don’t get on the furniture. Not for any reason other than if all the dogs were on the seats, there’d be no room for people. The picture I received of Broc defied this rule. Broc was cuddled up on a seat, looking down on his minions. His minions were the three Reindeer House dogs, Tiree, Sookie and Murdoch. They were all sat on the floor, waiting for instructions from their King. I was pleased to see that Broc was making himself at home, but thought it a little unfair for the other three to be upstaged by their visitor. Upon my return, Mel also explained that when Broc had the stick, the stick belonged to him, and everyone knew that. Usually Sookie, Tiree and Murdoch will fight over sticks, chasing each other, playing a game. But Broc was different. The other dogs did not dare challenge him, and he was happy.
Broc might not be the best dog for obedience or sharing, but I’ll forgive him for being so cute.
Imogen
King Broc with his minions, and the joy of a stick!
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!!!
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.
