What Squirrels Don't Ever Tell You
(On how Dogger Bank was scarred for life)
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: Remember this the next time you tune in to the Shipping Forecast.
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Burr always hated his name, hated it from day one and hated it even more when he researched its derivations. I mean, who should have to go through life with an appellation which by all accounts would suggest something which might stick to your clothing as you wandered o’er hill and dale?
Burr’s belief his parent’s were ‘on something’ when they named him was freely aired at family gatherings but the only explanation ever forwarded came from his old Grandma. She told him to ‘just get on with it’ and, if he still didn’t like it by the time he was eighteen to ‘change it by deed poll’. She told him his parents, especially his mother, were ‘free thinkers’ and apt to do pretty much as they pleased. Parenthood hadn’t diluted their thinking in any way, as signified by the naming of Burr’s younger sister, Jodrell.
Just after he turned eleven, Burr became Dogger, courtesy of his best friend Barney Robbell, real name Nathan. They had been studying Meteorology at school, in particular the different regions mentioned on the UK shipping forecast. With Burr’s surname being Bank, Barney made the connection with Dogger Bank and Burr happily accepted the sobriquet, finding immense relief when his other friends picked up on it and made use of it.
His family were slow to accept it at first, particularly his sister who wasn’t overkeen on being named after an observatory. Eventually, they went along with his wishes and called him Dogger for the most part since he stubbornly refused to answer to his given name.
The grades picked up when Dogger moved to secondary school and he firmly believed this was as a result of the name change. He excelled at sports along with several subjects his peers were finding difficulty in getting to grips with.
Dogger’s real passion was photography, in particular cinematography, and pretty soon his Arts teacher was putting him forward for locally run competitions to encourage him. With a real penchant for the great outdoors, his main subjects were the family pets, Tobelerone, aka Toby, a Chocolate Labrador and a Cocker Spaniel which answered to Jarvis, both of whom tried to outdo the other with crazy antics. To see them careering through the woods in the glen or diving into the surf from the low bridge at the beach was an absolute delight and Dogger won a couple of awards for his efforts in filming them at play. It was mainly his responsibility to exercise the animals and they happily accompanied him on his early morning paper round. If the light was good enough in the evenings after school he’d walk them through the glen where they’d put all the birds to flight and tree the odd cat or squirrel for fun.
With an ambition to become a cameraman or perhaps even a presenter on wildlife/nature documentaries, Dogger recorded every such programme from the television and pored over them for hours on end in an effort to understand how they were put together.
When his fourteenth birthday brought him his own pocket sized digital Camcorder, it was as if someone opened the door to his future. Portable and simple to use, the apparatus allowed him to edit his work, add music, titles and dialogue and do all manner of tricks with the content of what he’d filmed.
Barney’s Grandad kept Bees so it made sense Dogger’s first full length, self-edited documentary should be on that very subject. Suitably suited up, he was able to shoot the behaviour of the Bees from extremely close quarters while throwing questions at the old man. The footage won him an award in a national film competition he’d found on the internet, an award which came with a cash prize which he shared with Barney’s Grandad. Dogger thought that was only fair.
From Bees, Dogger developed a keen interest in entomology, surfing the net and reading as much as he possibly could on the subject. The old canal towpath was teaming with insects and Dogger quickly learned to make himself comfortable in order to sit absolutely still and film them in close up. Dragonflies were a particular favourite, if only for their colouring. At home, he’d edit what he’d shot and add his commentary or suitable background music.
Even a knock-back from the BBC didn’t deter him. He had applied to join their Nature team but was deemed a little too young. They did say he should enquire again when he was older so it wasn’t so much of a let down as it might have been. They liked the samples of his work he had provided and that gave him every encouragement.
The glen was Dogger’s backyard more or less. It stretched out for about a mile and a half and was maybe half a mile wide. Off-roaders could drive in for about half it’s length to a large clearing and no further but the vehicles were few and far between. Beyond the clearing there was a network of smaller paths, some of them overgrown where it was safer to let the dogs off the lead and give them a good run.
A magazine article on woodlice and other tree favouring insects heightened his interest to the extent they were to be his next subject. It was late spring and the nights were drawing out to where it was light until around eight thirty. Dogger jogged home from school and changed his clothes while Toby and Jarvis hurried him along, they knew it was walk time. While they were in the glen he chose his tree, an ancient Horse Chestnut at the far end of the clearing. Back at home he fed the dogs, made himself a few sandwiches and a flask of tea and packed his haversack with what he thought he might need.
When he climbed the tree he immediately came across more than he’d actually bargained for. Squirrels, two of them, right out on the tips of the branches and casting a wary eye in his direction. When he was settled in they were still there so he pointed the Camcorder at them. Perhaps sensing he meant them no harm they put on a bit of a show, play fighting, chasing about the higher reaches of the tree and coming closer all the time. The Squirrels tired of the game before Dogger did and disappeared from view so he set about preparing for his intended theme.
He played instrumental music through his earphones, always on the lookout for soundtracks to his work. The tree was in much better shape than he’d given it credit for with it’s bark resisting all attempts to peel it back and Dogger decided to try elsewhere.
With the music playing, he failed to hear the two 4x4 vehicles come into the clearing and park up beneath the tree. Some lazier dog walkers would drive up as far as they could before taking their pets farther into the glen. Dogger was about to descend when he realized the occupants hadn’t yet left their cars so he decided to stay where he was.
For the second time that evening he stumbled across more than he’d bargained for when the two occupants of one car, a man and a woman, piled into the other car. Pretty soon it began to rock back and forth, leaving Dogger in no doubt as to what was going on. Very carefully, he fished his Camcorder from the haversack and was just in time to catch a woman’s bare backside hanging out of a door. Another couple appeared as from nowhere and the entertainment spilled into the clearing. He didn’t know where to point the camera for the best and had every intention of having fun with what was on show.
A good looking blonde woman strolled in and wasted no time in getting down and dirty, stripping her top off to reveal her voluptuous upper half, it just got better and better.
Dogger was puzzled. He knew for a certain fact he had locked the dogs up safely before coming out, yet he was equally sure this was Toby and Jarvis loping into the clearing. They completely ignored the orgy and made straight for the base of the tree, rearing up on their hind legs like they wanted to climb it, they had his scent. Dogger stayed put, safe in the knowledge he was adequately screened by the leaves. Looking back in the direction Toby and Jarvis had appeared from his heart missed a beat, probably more than one. Walking towards the dogs and the show and the tree, he observed his Mum, Dad and Janey from across the road, his Mum’s best friend, a widow of some three years.
Recalling his old Grandma’s words, Dogger was curious to know just how free thinking his parents actually were, wondering how they would react to the sight of the full blown orgy they were about to encounter. Moments later he had his answer. Not the answer he had expected. He couldn’t look, then the photographer in him told him he should be looking, and filming. Mercifully, the battery in his Camcorder gave up the ghost at that precise moment, albeit much too late to prevent Dogger Bank from being scarred for life.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Remember this the next time you tune in to the Shipping Forecast.
_____________________________________________________________________
Burr always hated his name, hated it from day one and hated it even more when he researched its derivations. I mean, who should have to go through life with an appellation which by all accounts would suggest something which might stick to your clothing as you wandered o’er hill and dale?
Burr’s belief his parent’s were ‘on something’ when they named him was freely aired at family gatherings but the only explanation ever forwarded came from his old Grandma. She told him to ‘just get on with it’ and, if he still didn’t like it by the time he was eighteen to ‘change it by deed poll’. She told him his parents, especially his mother, were ‘free thinkers’ and apt to do pretty much as they pleased. Parenthood hadn’t diluted their thinking in any way, as signified by the naming of Burr’s younger sister, Jodrell.
Just after he turned eleven, Burr became Dogger, courtesy of his best friend Barney Robbell, real name Nathan. They had been studying Meteorology at school, in particular the different regions mentioned on the UK shipping forecast. With Burr’s surname being Bank, Barney made the connection with Dogger Bank and Burr happily accepted the sobriquet, finding immense relief when his other friends picked up on it and made use of it.
His family were slow to accept it at first, particularly his sister who wasn’t overkeen on being named after an observatory. Eventually, they went along with his wishes and called him Dogger for the most part since he stubbornly refused to answer to his given name.
The grades picked up when Dogger moved to secondary school and he firmly believed this was as a result of the name change. He excelled at sports along with several subjects his peers were finding difficulty in getting to grips with.
Dogger’s real passion was photography, in particular cinematography, and pretty soon his Arts teacher was putting him forward for locally run competitions to encourage him. With a real penchant for the great outdoors, his main subjects were the family pets, Tobelerone, aka Toby, a Chocolate Labrador and a Cocker Spaniel which answered to Jarvis, both of whom tried to outdo the other with crazy antics. To see them careering through the woods in the glen or diving into the surf from the low bridge at the beach was an absolute delight and Dogger won a couple of awards for his efforts in filming them at play. It was mainly his responsibility to exercise the animals and they happily accompanied him on his early morning paper round. If the light was good enough in the evenings after school he’d walk them through the glen where they’d put all the birds to flight and tree the odd cat or squirrel for fun.
With an ambition to become a cameraman or perhaps even a presenter on wildlife/nature documentaries, Dogger recorded every such programme from the television and pored over them for hours on end in an effort to understand how they were put together.
When his fourteenth birthday brought him his own pocket sized digital Camcorder, it was as if someone opened the door to his future. Portable and simple to use, the apparatus allowed him to edit his work, add music, titles and dialogue and do all manner of tricks with the content of what he’d filmed.
Barney’s Grandad kept Bees so it made sense Dogger’s first full length, self-edited documentary should be on that very subject. Suitably suited up, he was able to shoot the behaviour of the Bees from extremely close quarters while throwing questions at the old man. The footage won him an award in a national film competition he’d found on the internet, an award which came with a cash prize which he shared with Barney’s Grandad. Dogger thought that was only fair.
From Bees, Dogger developed a keen interest in entomology, surfing the net and reading as much as he possibly could on the subject. The old canal towpath was teaming with insects and Dogger quickly learned to make himself comfortable in order to sit absolutely still and film them in close up. Dragonflies were a particular favourite, if only for their colouring. At home, he’d edit what he’d shot and add his commentary or suitable background music.
Even a knock-back from the BBC didn’t deter him. He had applied to join their Nature team but was deemed a little too young. They did say he should enquire again when he was older so it wasn’t so much of a let down as it might have been. They liked the samples of his work he had provided and that gave him every encouragement.
The glen was Dogger’s backyard more or less. It stretched out for about a mile and a half and was maybe half a mile wide. Off-roaders could drive in for about half it’s length to a large clearing and no further but the vehicles were few and far between. Beyond the clearing there was a network of smaller paths, some of them overgrown where it was safer to let the dogs off the lead and give them a good run.
A magazine article on woodlice and other tree favouring insects heightened his interest to the extent they were to be his next subject. It was late spring and the nights were drawing out to where it was light until around eight thirty. Dogger jogged home from school and changed his clothes while Toby and Jarvis hurried him along, they knew it was walk time. While they were in the glen he chose his tree, an ancient Horse Chestnut at the far end of the clearing. Back at home he fed the dogs, made himself a few sandwiches and a flask of tea and packed his haversack with what he thought he might need.
When he climbed the tree he immediately came across more than he’d actually bargained for. Squirrels, two of them, right out on the tips of the branches and casting a wary eye in his direction. When he was settled in they were still there so he pointed the Camcorder at them. Perhaps sensing he meant them no harm they put on a bit of a show, play fighting, chasing about the higher reaches of the tree and coming closer all the time. The Squirrels tired of the game before Dogger did and disappeared from view so he set about preparing for his intended theme.
He played instrumental music through his earphones, always on the lookout for soundtracks to his work. The tree was in much better shape than he’d given it credit for with it’s bark resisting all attempts to peel it back and Dogger decided to try elsewhere.
With the music playing, he failed to hear the two 4x4 vehicles come into the clearing and park up beneath the tree. Some lazier dog walkers would drive up as far as they could before taking their pets farther into the glen. Dogger was about to descend when he realized the occupants hadn’t yet left their cars so he decided to stay where he was.
For the second time that evening he stumbled across more than he’d bargained for when the two occupants of one car, a man and a woman, piled into the other car. Pretty soon it began to rock back and forth, leaving Dogger in no doubt as to what was going on. Very carefully, he fished his Camcorder from the haversack and was just in time to catch a woman’s bare backside hanging out of a door. Another couple appeared as from nowhere and the entertainment spilled into the clearing. He didn’t know where to point the camera for the best and had every intention of having fun with what was on show.
A good looking blonde woman strolled in and wasted no time in getting down and dirty, stripping her top off to reveal her voluptuous upper half, it just got better and better.
Dogger was puzzled. He knew for a certain fact he had locked the dogs up safely before coming out, yet he was equally sure this was Toby and Jarvis loping into the clearing. They completely ignored the orgy and made straight for the base of the tree, rearing up on their hind legs like they wanted to climb it, they had his scent. Dogger stayed put, safe in the knowledge he was adequately screened by the leaves. Looking back in the direction Toby and Jarvis had appeared from his heart missed a beat, probably more than one. Walking towards the dogs and the show and the tree, he observed his Mum, Dad and Janey from across the road, his Mum’s best friend, a widow of some three years.
Recalling his old Grandma’s words, Dogger was curious to know just how free thinking his parents actually were, wondering how they would react to the sight of the full blown orgy they were about to encounter. Moments later he had his answer. Not the answer he had expected. He couldn’t look, then the photographer in him told him he should be looking, and filming. Mercifully, the battery in his Camcorder gave up the ghost at that precise moment, albeit much too late to prevent Dogger Bank from being scarred for life.
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in his 50s, an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in sunny Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He is inspired by the Ayrshire coast and likes what he calls "real music". He also enjoys pool, snooker and is a big fan of rugby league side, Wigan Warriors. He has written several novels and one poetry collection and says that writing gives him "endless pleasure". His two ebooks can be viewed by clicking on the images below.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
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