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Jack Sedgwick remembers

A Mowdie Better than Any Girl in Christ Church Rooms

Before I relate a story to you, with thoughts of "The Wind in the Willows," a birthday party and sweet sixteen, a mowdie and shame racing through my memory of yesteryears, I would like to write about the details of this rather specialised little mammal which will interest readers of all ages.

The mole is about six inches long and has a thick, velvety fur coats which is usually black, though other colours do exist, such as apricot, cream, rust, piebald, grey and the albino white with pink eyes. The head tapers to a fleshy nose end which is equipped with all sorts of sensory apparatus and can smell acutely and along with great hearing is able to detect intruders like worms and beetles many yards away in the tunnels. The hearing is remarkable because unlike other animals it has no external ears. The eyes are very small and are not of much use as there are no lights in the tunnels and this is why the other senses I have mentioned have become extra specialised. Males are a bit bigger than the females and weigh about three ounces. Most moles live solitary lives within their own runs with, on average, eight to ten heaps or mole hills with tunnels at various depths interlocking. Although the mole will eat half its weight of worms each day, it still needs to drink quite a lot of water and makes provision for that facility in the tunnel system.

When you see a big molehill it can be either a nest for young in early summer or the sleeping quarters of the tunnel owners. Moles have a fixed regime, which of course does not involve daylight, and work and rest in equal four hour spells. Some will die if they don't have food within twelve hours.

The males and females are only friendly for about one day in the year and three or four young are born some thirty days later, blind and naked with fur starting to grow after about a fortnight and eyes opening after about three weeks. They suckle for some five weeks, and start to disperse two to three weeks later by coming to the surface and eventually burrowing and tunnelling their own homes. It is often at this time that that they are taken by predators such as owls, buzzards, stoats, weasels, foxes, cats and dogs.

Using their large, shovel-like feet they tunnel by using alternate side strokes to scoop the earth behind them and then turning around they push it upwards to create the molehill. Proud of their home and tunnels they resent any intrusion by any other moles and can be very aggressive when challenged.

Back into dreamland now with my memory of Mole in "The Wind and the Willows" looking so distinguished, and a certain sixteenth birthday party of a girl in Christ Church rooms to which I had been asked.

In the late afternoon of that particular day I watched a molehill developing in the field next to my home and stamping down my heel onto where I thought the tunnel ran I managed to cut off the retreat of the mole and duly had him in my hand and very quickly into my pocket. Preparations for the party were made - a good wash, clean shirt and tie, a well pressed pair of trousers, polished shoes and my one and only sports jacket, all of which represented quite a wardrobe in the last years of the war. A clean handkerchief in one pocket completed the garb and a real live mole in the other pocket saw me set off for the Church Hall. Arriving there to find most of the other guests in party mode I awaited the opportunity to let off my mole in the adjoining cloakroom and having managed to do so awaited reaction sometime in the future. The party was swinging and the food came on, to which I gave my wholehearted attention, when all of a sudden there were some bloodcurdling screams from some girls who had been terrified by a rat in their cloakroom. A very brave father investigated and judged the rat to be none other than a mole. I was the only one in the room who could possibly be guilty, so I owned up and picked up my little friend and was escorted from the party.
I said goodbye to Moley at the top of Gate Brow opposite Hames Hall and let him off in the hedgerow. I felt happy and not ashamed at being removed from the party and thought my mole was far better than any girl in Christ Church Rooms.
Years later both the grown up birthday girl and her mother laughingly reminded me of the incident, but you know I had never forgotten and often had had a little chuckle about it, especially once when I went into that room one Friday to a WI sale some forty years on.

Readers can contact Jack Sedgwick on 01946 820513.

His surgery at 66a Main Street, Egremont, is open from 6 - 7pm Tuesday & Thursday, 2 - 3pm on Wednesday, and 11am - 12 Noon on Saturday.

 

 

 

 

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