I see ye wee moudie wavin a gowan at me.
Ahn I hear you too, (bit unco that).
Whit’s that yer saying? He’s saving a moose that wiz stuck doon yin o yer tunnels.
Jist as well ye waved yer flooer then, ah wiz jist aboot tae mince him wi ma shovel thinking he wiz a revenant comin tae dae us aw in.
He’ll be fine noo, dinni worry.
gowan: the daisy, any daisy type flower.
I see you small mole waving a daisy at me.
And I hear you too, (that’s unusual).
What’s that you say? He is saving a mouse that was stuck down one of your tunnels.
Just as well you waved your flower then, I was just about to render him inoperable with my shovel believing that he was a zombie coming to do us harm.
He’ll be OK now, do not worry.
On our dog walk Max the terrier loves to dig up mole hills and de-roof the tunnels mouthful by mouthful. I don’t let him indulge. The damage is easily repairable for a mole. And they’re too quick (underground) to be caught.
Max only digs if there is a mole at home. The freshness of the earth on the hill seems less important than what his nose tells him. The buried nose and a sniff is the decider. The act of mole hill digging is definitely nose led.
We once found a mole traveling on the surface. Max was on his lead. I let him smell it over as it muscled along. It was in no danger unless it moved suddenly – or squeaked. These are the triggers for violent death to erupt from a terrier. It ignored us.
Moles and mole hills are not so common now as I remember from when I was a child. My mates dad was a mole catcher back then.