I spent a lot of time with Ted Lawson, he and Joyce were living in the bungalow down Crow Row (Longfield Lane) behind the Dog.  They had two children, Sandra and Philip.  Sandra was to die of cancer shortly after she got married but I still visit Philip and his wife Julie and they look after my dog when I’m on my travels.  Ted and I did a bit of rabbiting.  I had a ferret and some nets and we used to pop off on Friday afternoon if he could get away early from the dairy.  We’d go up the dale and net a few rabbits and then sell them in the Dog when we got back.  This gave us some beer money.  I can’t remember where I got the ferret from, I think it was from Marshall Duerden at Sough but it was a beauty.  I called it Winnie because when I got it I thought it was a female.  I later realised it was a dog ferret and so it became Winston but always called Winnie.

Ferrets are much maligned animals.  Anyone who has ever kept one properly will know that they are very intelligent, clean and loyal.  If you build the hutch right with dark sleeping quarters and put a three inch hole in the floor covered with chicken wire next to the cage door where it is light they will do all their muck through the hole and all you need is a bucket underneath.  Their smell is their own and you have to get to like it but if kept clean it isn’t oppressive.  I had Winnie for a long time and he grew bigger and bigger.  I never had him on a lead or muzzled him and he always came back out of a warren, I never had to dig for him.  When we went rabbiting I just used to put him down on the ground and let him sort out where the rabbits were.  When he went to ground Ted and I would net every hole in sight and wait for the action.  They would pop up into the nets and we would kill them.

Occasionally, Winnie would get a rabbit banged up in a dead end.  Rabbits have no defence against ferrets except flight and if cornered they will just shove as much of their body as they can into a dead end and hope for the best.  The ferret scrabbles at them and pulls fur out of their back end but usually gets fed up and leaves them.  On occasion you would hear Winnie squealing with frustration down the hole and every now and again he would emerge from the warren and run round on his hind legs chattering with fury.  You could tell he had one holed up, his front claws would be full of fur.  He would dive in again and have another go and Ted and I would just laugh at him.  Eventually he would either bolt it or give up, we always let him decide when he had had enough.  We used to gut the rabbits and examine the livers.  If the livers were good the rabbit hadn’t got mixie.  We’d always keep a couple for ourselves and I’d give Winnie the livers out of these and then shove him inside my shirt.  He would coil himself round my back next to the skin and go to sleep.

I remember we got back into the Dog one evening after a profitable night out and we were having a couple of beers before going up home and frying some home cured ham.  One thing I have always known is that no matter what field of human endeavour you are operating in, there’s always some clever bugger who knows more than you.  On this particular night, Old Sid Demaine was in the pub and started to tell us about his ferreting days.  He said he used to have the biggest ferret anyone had ever seen and I asked him how big it was nose to tail.  He put his hands on the bar to illustrate the size and I said “I’ve got one that’ll beat that” and, reaching inside my shirt, brought Winnie out and laid it across his hands!  Winnie was full of liver and half asleep and displayed no aggression at all but Old Sid went rigid!  It was quite evident he had never held a ferret in his life.  What was even more interesting was the reaction of every one else in the bar.  The landlady, Lily, jumped on a chair and started screaming.  Every woman in the bar tried to get in the ladies toilet at once and most of the blokes were laughing.  There were glasses flying all over the place and you could safely say we had caused a stir!  The upshot was we were barred for about four weeks and it cost me 30/- in breakages!

Ted and I once went with his brother John to buy a couple of ferrets from a farmer at Airton.  They were in a 17 gallon conical railway kit and when John asked how much they were the farmer said he could have any he could get out of the kit for nothing.  John reached in and stirred them up with his hand.  When he pulled it out there were three ferrets hanging off his fingers, “I’ll take these!”  The farmer couldn’t believe it and we left with three free ferrets.  John was a hard man!

Winnie was more than just a working ferret, he was one of the family.  I used to bring him in the house and give him a bath in the kitchen sink.  Ferrets hate water but if they get used to it, love a warm bath.  I used to rinse him off under the tap and then holding him by the neck, run my fist down him to squeeze off the excess water.  When you do that you are always surprised by how thin a ferret is, it’s about the same as a piece of ¾ inch water pipe.  Then I would let him run around until he was dry.  A clean ferret is one of the most beautiful animals on earth.  They are creamy white and have lovely inquisitive faces.  He used to sit on my shoulder grooming himself, chattering and nibbling my ear.  The kids had no fear of him and played with him as well.  Visitors used to be amazed that we let such a dangerous animal loose round the children, they thought we were mad but the same people would think nothing about having an Alsatian in the house!

Eventually, when I went to my next job, I hadn’t time to go out rabbiting and so gave Winnie to the local bobby at Foulridge.  He had just moved to the country and was interested in field sports.  I took him out and showed him how to use the ferret, gave him the hutch and the nets and left him to it.  About three weeks later I was passing and popped into the backyard to see how Winnie was going on.  He was dead in the hutch and had obviously never been fed, watered or worked since he had left me.  I left quietly but was so angry with myself.  It was a horrible way for a lovely mate to end his days and affected me just as much as if it had been one of my human friends, perhaps even more.  I have never forgotten this and faced with a similar situation not long ago, put a dog down rather than risk it being ill treated.   


Stanley Challenger Graham




Barlick View
stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk