A little local difficulty

Christmas Day 2017 was unexpectedly eventful. I cooked lunch for in-laws and outlaws, gifts were exchanged and champagne consumed, nobody suffered from food poisoning but none of this was the big surprise — that took place on our afternoon perambulation around the woods.

Walking off the turkey and (perfectly cooked) roast potatoes, the excitable knot of terriers, expanded by visiting family hounds, eagerly flushed an unfamiliar form from a patch of tight bramble cover. It was not the expected cock pheasant; instead, a coppery flank surged across the ride and away into the tidied lines of wintery coppice opposite, into and out of sight in a handful of seconds. It was smaller than a roe, moving slightly like a hare but much too large. My wife, mother and I all had one word on the tip of our tongues, but all initially resisted letting it out for