A water-filled welly...

My week started with a much anticipated (and dreaded, if I'm honest) visit to the golf course to put Stealth Cam 500 back in its rightful place. Failing to build some amazing otter-proof contraption on Friday, I thought it best to take the camera home with me over the weekend and figure something out. Cue me sending a desperate text message to Bob, cursing the Ouseburn Otter and all things otter-ish. Now, as I'm sure you have all figured out by now, Bob is a hero. Not only has he rescued my cameras from a watery grave, built Fish Island in the middle of the Ouseburn and dispatched of a number of fame hungry spiders for me, he has now come to my rescue re constucting an otter-proof contraption. In reply to my plea for help over the weekend, Bob came up with the idea of building an otter-proof plinth. Yes, a plinth! So now Stealth Cam 500 is proudly sitting under the smallest bridge in the history of bridges on it's very own throne. And it hasn't been knocked down once this week. Amazing. I do, however, have a confession to make. I have grown wise over these past weeks and now when on shuffling under the smallest bridge in the history of bridges, I am kitted out in waterproof trousers, coat and wellies. This has made me careless. I soon learnt that waterproofs and wellies do not a dry person make. You see, I underestimated the Ouseburn and tried to cross it (clearly to get to the other side!). It gobbled me up like a river possesed and left me with a wellington full of smelly water and an extremely soggy sock. The acrobatics I performed that day on the golf course to get only one foot wet were second to none. Add to this the leaves and mud in my hair and goodness knows what else from under that bridge and you can imagine the kind of mood I was in when I arrived in the office. I would now like to take this opportunity to thank Kirsty for the loan of her lovely and dry stripey socks that day and for not mentioning the smell of river water emanating from my jeans. So yes, my confession. All this time I have been blaming the Ouseburn Otter for knocking over my camera and ruining my life when all along it was innocent (well, as innocent as the Ouseburn Otter can be). The creature causing all my under-the-bridge misery (and I have the evidence on film) has actually been a badger. But you see, badgers are neither sneaky nor particularly clever (when compared to the mastermind of the Ouseburn Otter) so I don't hold this against it. I still however do hold a grudge against the Ouseburn Otter. Why? Well you know all the mountains of spraint that I was practically eating for breakfast while finding Stealth Cam flat in the mud? This has now stopped and I have a horrible feeling that while Stealth Cam sits proudly on its plinth, the Ouseburn Otter is going to stop all visitations to the best sprainting spot he will probably ever know. Sorry Ouseburn Otter but your tricks just make me all the more determined to capture you on film and plaster your face all over the North East!

So this is how accommodating and well behaved an otter can be. Take note of how the 'Borough otters do it Mr O!