Shocking Surprise from Pheasants
I used to walk my Border Collie bitch high up on some hills in Nottinghamshire. However, after she passed away, aged twelve, I have not been back there since. They are lovely hills. There was one problem with them though - there were hundreds of pheasants there and a game keeper looking after them.
The game keeper did not take lightly to people and dogs walking on the public footpaths that surrounded and intertwined the land the pheasants roamed on. He would often come zooming across the fields in his 4 x 4 and jump out and tell you to keep your dog on a lead, even if it was on a lead. I guess shooting pheasants meant money to him and the land owner and he did not want his pheasants disturbed.
Years ago I used to do beating and picking up for a shoot in Bedfordshire. I had two Springer Spaniels then that I had trained to the gun. I am totally against shooting and all other country sports now.
What finally made my mind up for me happened when we lived near Woburn Abbey. Each Christmas they have a celebrity shoot. On this particular weekend I heard constant gunfire and I thought of how many pheasants were being shot.
As I knew what would happen to these pheasants during the shooting season and as I am an animal communicator I had a little chat with them every time I walked across the hills with my dog. I would tell the pheasants, and there were literally hundreds of them, to go and live some place else. I told them to go and find food, shelter and water in some safe spot away from the people who, most certainly, would come and fire at them and maybe kill and maim them.
Well the answer I got from the pheasants really shocked and surprised me. I heard a hundred voices, in unison going, 'we're food, we're food'.
Nevertheless on the numerous occasions that I did walk those hills I still kept on talking to the birds and telling them that they did not have to be food. I still got a lot of replies though about being food and that that was their destiny.
I hope I did manage to convince some of them that they were not prey.
copyright Barbara Burgess 2017