Thanks to the Querencia blog, I learned that Phil Drabble, age 93, has gone to the Big Field and Forest in the Sky. His obituary in The Guardian is a nice read. They refer to him as a "militant naturalist who loved the countryside long before BBC2 made him the 'star' of One Man and His Dog, in which he succeeded in drawing a television audience of six million for a series of sheepdog trials."
"Militant Naturalist." I rather like that! More please.
The obit goes on: "He was distinctly not a man to cross, neither before nor after he learned how publicity could help fight his battles against what he called 'green welly wallies', 'smart-arsed industrial consultants who are the parasites of a get-rich-quick society', 'agri-chemical fat cats', 'parish pump politicians' and 'petty bureaucrats', who all in their way - in his view - spoiled the purity of the countryside to which all decent Englishmen aspired."
Oh geez, that's good. Be sure to read the rest, and the other in The Telegraph as well. Drabble wrote his first article for The Field about Staffordshire bull terriers, and his slim book "Of Pedigree Unknown" is a good read about dogs, with a few pictures and stories about the great terrierman Bert Gripton. May they both meet up with each other, and the dogs, on the other side.
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