Otter up a tree.

Did you see the photo of an otter up a tree at WWT Slimbridge? Although this is not a new phenomenon its still pretty awesome. Otters never cease to amaze me - is there anything they can't do? This pic is from The Times (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/article6994410.ece) and really made my day when it was showed to me. Guess I really am setting up my cameras in the wrong place! Next time I have tales of tall trees to tell, it won't be red squirrels that I was after. Oh no no no.


Oh. And I think the Ouseburn Otter has found a rival to his cheekiness down in Middlesborough. One of my WildPlaces colleagues, Kenny, got some crazy footage of an otter sauntering nonchalantly towards the camera, sticking out its tongue (can you believe the audacity) and then walking away. A real up yours in an otter kind of way.

Kenny, I hope you don't mind that I have put the video up - its really too special not to be shared! What a cheeky little blighter! Check out Kenny's blog (http://wildplacesteesvalley.blogspot.com/) for more cool footage from the WildPlaces team - that way I dont have to steal his to put on here cause you would already have seen it.

And in other news, I had some pretty rambunctious (I don't think thats a made up word) badgers on my hands. I went in search of a particular badger sett in a particular wood all on my lonesome last week. Never mind that I have visited this sett a few times with Barry, my trusty Northumberland Navigator. I can visit a place 100 times and still get lost if I'm the one finding the way. So yeah. There I was. Alone. In the woods. Teetering on the edge of the ravine. It didnt help that it was stupid o clock in the morning (and in this wonderful climate morning = pitch black at the moment). I admit I was scared. Especially as I had already seen this footage from cameras set up on a previous visit.

You don't want to be caught unawares by these sharp-clawed monsters (badgers are lovely really - that was just for dramatic effect). But needless to say, I was just being a wimp. I made it out alive, didnt even catch a whiff of badger although I saw some badger poo with a skull in it. Hmmm what a rubbish story. Lost in the woods and not a wound or a close encounter to speak off. Sorry about that. But at least I live another day to bring you tales of urban mammals in the North East. Don't even think it, I know you would rather I had been attacked and had something exciting to say.

A new years resolution

Another new year and boy has it started with a bang! Snow fuelled chaos has been the highlight of the year so far for many but never fear, apart from snowball fights and Frosty the snowman, the white stuff is pretty handy. Mammals cannot hide. Unless they develop a slick method of floating, you are pretty much guaranteed to see footprints wherever an animal has been. Bonus for me. I have been able to see the Ouseburn Otter's every move and while I still can't find him (typical Ouseburn Otter style), I do know a little bit more about his movements, with hardly any extra effort! However, my new years resolution for 2010 is to be a little more forgiving of Mr O. I am currently reading a book called The Otter in Britain (a lovely present from the legendary Bob Wilkin) and it has definitely given me an insight into why the otter is just so darn camera shy. Never mind the ye olde english style of writing, this poem by William Somerville (called The Chace and written way back in 1735) shows just how persecuted this poor critter has been for a long, long time. I too, would have developed a crafty instinct had a poem like this been written about me. Here we go. It gets quite gory - you have been warned.

On the soft sand
See there his seal impress'd! And on that bank
Behold the glittering spoils, half-eaten fish,
Scales, fins and bones, the leavings of his feast.
Ah! On that yielding sag-bed, see, once more
His seal I view. O'er yon dark rushy marsh
The sly goose-footed prowler bends his course,
And seeks distant shallows.

See, there he drives along!
The ascending bubbles mark his gloomy way.
Quick fix the nets, and cut off his retreat
Into the shelt'ring deeps. Ah, there he vents!
The pack plunge headlong, and protended spears
Menace destruction.

Ah, there once more he vents!
See, that blood hound has seiz'd him: down they sink,
Together lost: but soon shall be repent
His rash assault. See there escap'd, he flies
Half drown'd, and clambers up the slipp'ry bank
With ooze and blood distain'd. Again he vents:
Again the crowd attack. That spear has pierc'd
His neck; the crimson waves confess the wound.
Fix'd is the bearded lance, unwelcome guest,
Where're he flies; with him it sinks beneath,
With him it mounts; sure guide to ev'ry foe.
Inly he groans, nor can his tender wound
Bear the cold stream. Lo! to yon sedgy bank
He creeps disconsolate; his numerous foes
Surround him, hounds and men. Pierc'd through and through
On pointed spears they lift him high in air;
Wriggling he hangs, and grins and bites in vain.

So there you have it. But lets turn to the Haugh otter now. I don't think his ancestors were ever hunted, even back then I reckon they were tough, used to laugh at the dogs if they ever tried to come near them. In fact, the book gives a few accounts of otters actually being 'one of the dogs', trained to run alongside what should be their enemies. One particular pack of dogs even refused to hunt wild otters when their otter-mate was with them. I mean get a load of this bad boy. I certainly wouldn't mess with him!