I spent a couple of hours today in the company of a man I have known in various ways for most of my life. I'll call him JB (Not our JayB). A dedicated and very expert poacher, running dogs/terrier man. Hard as nails and not adversed to more than occassional scrap. As a teenager I recall seeing him walking through our home town with at least 6 assorted poaching dogs in tow. I remember owning a border collie and it being involved in a fight with a labrador. After splitting the dogs I see JB walking over the park towards me, oh ****, I'm thinking it's one of his dogs I'm in for a hard time but no he was over to see how my dog was and to offer help. In later years I meet with him again. In my early days in the Police there was many a call to JB causing some sort of disturbance. Usually 6 cops were just about enough to get him into a van. Jeeez, he could fight and as strong as a bull.
Now at 79 the twinkle is still in his eyes as he talks about his many dogs chasing the hare, the bitch that collided with the gate at full pelt and killed herself, the deer he poached, the bags of rabbits he caught in long nets and the terrier which lost an eye to a fox. As he says "Never had much, but my family never went to bed hungry"
Today we see poachers and dogmen as the lowest of the low but JB you are one of lives characters.