Fluttering Flutter Valves

Shelagh arrived in May. She moved into the small tenant house behind our huntsman’s residence in the Montfair kennel complex.

She wasted no time getting into the job. Within a week she could identify every hound—eighty-plus of them—and knew a point or two about each one’s personality and hunting style. She was an indispensible help at the spring hound shows. She blended into the kennel work routine seamlessly with Crispie and Patti Vestor, his significant other and co-worker in the hunt’s employ. When we started walking out hounds for summer exercise, she showed no lack of energy regardless of the early hours or rising heat.

On horseback she was the ultimate Irish rider: calm, fearless, perfectly balanced, effortlessly athletic.

She needed to learn the lay of the land before hunting started in September. That required many hours of riding through our territory, becoming familiar with the trails and obstacles, where hounds and staff are allowed to go and what areas must be avoided, where the best spots are to get a fox up, and how our local quarry is likely to run.

I was only too happy