Born to Run - Hare Coursing

We all know of certain descriptions that have been applied to various sports from time to time: The Sport of Kings for horse racing and The Beautiful Game for football are two examples that come to mind. If I had to apply a description to hare coursing, I would have no hesitation in describing it thus: The Supreme Field Sport. A Roman called Arrian wrote in AD116: "The true sportsman does not take out his dog to destroy the hares, but for the sake of the course and the contest between the dogs and the hares, and is glad if the hare escapes." That quote was as true on the day that the Hunting Act banned our Sport as it was when it was originally written. Good man that Arrian!

Anyway, enough of the history: it's time to just mention some of the unforgettable moments enjoyed by our dogs and Pam and I over the preceding three seasons. Our club coursed by invitation at various venues, mostly in Norfolk. Most Saturdays during the Autumn and Winter would find us walking fields of stubble, grass or rape in an orderly line following the Slipper who, upon the hare rising from her form and making sure that fair law to the animal was applied, would slip the dogs who by that time were well sighted on the hare and keen to give chase.

Tilley and Moss in particular, and The Shiner to a slightly lesser extent, have enjoyed their fair share of success and never tired of competition. Their desire to run and chase were never satisfied. At no time would they ever be less than totally committed to the task and that, of-course, would apply not just to our dogs but to all who coursed hare - performing as nature intended, pure and simple.

It was almost as if the whole week would be geared to the meeting on Saturdays. We would rest the dogs on the Sunday following a meeting but Monday would see us again begin preparations for the next weekend with controlled exercise. If any slight injuries had been incurred, progress would be monitored to help ensure that Saturday found them on the running ground in the best of condition. We would hope to have them at peak readiness by late Thursday; a good rest on Friday; and raring to go on Saturday.

Arrive at the venue; trot the dogs round; give the legs a good rub down. Next would come the list from the secretary of which dog was running against which. Were there to be any withdrawals? If so would we get a bye into the next round? Mixed emotions here. Would we be competing with one in whom we felt we had a good chance or did we feel that we were going to be up against it? (Hare coursing was hugely unpredictable for all sorts of reasons, namely the infinite skill of the hare and her ability to turn and totally outwit the dogs on occasions.)

Nothing could be taken for granted. Where are we on the card? Fourth hare for example. Could be plenty of walking before our turn or maybe a good head of hares would ensure we quickly arrived at slips. What colour collar? Red or white? Dogs in. Continue to walk. Hare Forward! the yell from the line. Dogs bark in unified excitement except those in slips. The Slipper runs forward with the dogs by now totally focused on the hare. Slipper applies fair law and releases the dogs. The judge, mounted, watches the progress of the course, awarding points to the dogs as each competes with the other in pursuit of the hare which, in the great majority of cases, will out run and out manoeuvre the dogs, disappearing, sometimes with consummate ease, leaving its pursuers to cast around in a vain attempt to find her before returning to their respective owners. The judge by this time will have decided upon which dog has won and the red or white handkerchief is raised accordingly. To the successful owner almost a victory banner: to the vanquished, however, the colour he didn't want to see.

The meeting progresses and the card approaches completion as the light begins to fade. Two hares needed. Will we make it before the light deteriorates to call an enforced halt to proceedings? Back to the meeting point. Was it really six hours ago?

Amid polite applause, the rosettes are bestowed and with laughter and friendly banter the assembled begin to disperse. The fields, now almost in darkness, provide peace and quiet for all creatures great and small. Didn't the dogs do well? Where are we next week ... ?