Teckles are on the loose in Anglesey as the residents of the farm on the M62 go on holiday

After a pretty hectic week, we finally pulled out of the yard, loaded up with our holiday gear.
The teckles are on the loose in WalesThe teckles are on the loose in Wales
The teckles are on the loose in Wales

As I drove away from the farm and headed west, I breathed a sigh of relief.

The past 24 hours had been trying, to say the least, and had just about finished me off. The sheer fact that we were on our way was a miracle in itself, but we were and neither of us could hide our excitement.

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The previous evening, whilst going to collect John-William from his music camp, I’d been pulled over by a police car. I sat in my car, heart racing, wondering what on earth I’d done wrong.

The policeman, of course, wasted no time in telling me my crime, I was driving a car with no MOT. Waves of shock and frustration washed over me as I tried to convince him I was sorry and it was a genuine mistake.

John-William’s bike was in the back along with all our food, clothes, wetsuits and other holiday paraphernalia. The only place I was allowed to go was the nearest garage, which luckily belonged to friends of ours.

Much to my amazement, they very kindly put my car through the test and finally someone was smiling down on us and it passed!

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Paul arrived in Anglesey a day later than us, loaded up with the things we’d forgotten plus the two little terrierists!

I’d noticed the area had an abundance of rabbits plus a resident badger so drummed into John-William, leads were essential.

Under no circumstances were the dogs allowed outside unless firmly secured to a human. The following morning I released them from their crate and went to get their leads. They excitedly followed me into the kitchen and with great glee exited through the door which had been left slightly ajar.

I fleetingly saw the look of surprise on the rabbit’s face before it fled into the undergrowth, two hungry Teckels on its heels. Branches snapped, shrubs were flattened amidst screams and yelps as the two terrors went into hunting mode. My shouts and pleas were lost amongst their war cries which were by now getting further away.

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I ran to the edge of the garden just in time to see two little Scud missiles vanishing over the horizon. Paul was already pulling his boots on, car key in hand as I ran back to the house. He gave me a withering look before screeching out of the yard.

By now most of the residents of the cottages nestled in this quiet little corner of the island would be awake, including the owners of our cottage. John-William appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes and joined the search. Much to my surprise Wilma returned to my desperate calls and hurried back inside.

Boo, however, was on holiday. So many new smells, so many new innocents to track and exterminate.

As we set off after Paul, I tried to ignore the worry growing inside me and wondered if I’d see her again.

We found my car abandoned and eventually Paul emerged from the dense hedgerow lining the lane, one panting Teckel tucked securely under his arm.

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