Our two Jack Russells Minnow and Barney are, in a way, like finely tuned weapons of mass rodent destruction. The slightest sound out of the ordinary, something different to the ambient sounds that they are surrounded by brings on a tensing of the muscles and a state of high alert.
Barney is happily trotting along the drove when he hears something that totally evades me, a short period of concentration to locate the source of the sound and over he goes but before he can start snuffling around in the Norfolk Reed on the bank of the dyke a snipe explodes out of the tangle and is zig-zagging its way into the distance at great speed leaving a frustrated terrier.
On the opposite side of drove about ten yards further on Minnow goes through the same routine staring into and listening to sounds in the sorghum and maize that has been planted by the farmer as game cover. Seconds later she dives into the sorghum and four plump pheasants burst through the tops heading for safety.
The walk continues without further incident apart from the routine and seemingly random sniffing of almost everything and peeing copiously on what are apparently the most important places.
Basically normal service.