When nature needs a little help

Life at the Old Millhouse: When Nature Needs a Little Help

Spring at the Old Millhouse is never quiet. There’s always something unfolding – a new season settling in across the land, the garden waking up, guests arriving ready for adventure. But this spring has been something else entirely. In the space of just two weeks, I’ve gone from property host to wildlife rescuer to reluctant adoptive mother. And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Deer in the Water

We’re lucky enough to have roe deer on our land most years. They’re shy, elegant creatures – you tend to catch them at the edges of things, at dusk, always just on the point of disappearing. So when one of our guests came to find me last week, voice low and urgent, I knew something was wrong.

Mum had given birth across the water this time – not the usual spot and her little fawn had got herself into difficulty. Thanks to our guest’s sharp eyes and quick thinking, we were able to help, and before long mum and baby were reunited.

The Chick Who Decided I’m Hers

You’d think one rescue in a week would be enough. But four days ago, a chick arrived into my life – tiny, determined and entirely uninterested in the fact that I have a property to run.

For reasons known only to her, mum rejected her. So here we are. She’s eating well, she’s bright-eyed, and she is absolutely, unshakeably convinced that the best place in the world is either in my hands or tucked up warm against me. She’s a pretty little thing, I’ll give her that. But we’re going to need to have a gentle conversation about independence sometime soon, because the to-do list isn’t getting any shorter.

The plan is simple: get her a little bigger, build her confidence up, and gradually – very gradually, at her pace – help her find her feet in the world. In the meantime, I am apparently a full-time heated perch.

Animal Farm, Scottish Borders Edition

I moved to the Old Millhouse knowing the land came with a life of its own. What I perhaps didn’t fully anticipate was quite how much of that life would end up in my arms on a regular basis.

If you’ve ever stayed here, you’ll know that the animals are part of what makes this place feel the way it does – unhurried, real, rooted in something bigger than a calendar. This spring has just been a particularly vivid reminder of that.

So if you’re planning a visit and you spot me heading purposefully across the garden with muddy boots and a determined expression – don’t worry. It’s probably just Tuesday.

The Old Millhouse is becoming quite the animal farm. And I wouldn’t change a single thing about it. 🐾