by Andrew Livingston
From dodgy tractor skills to a spitting alpaca, Andrew Livingston’s love story proves Abbotsbury swans aren’t the only ones who mate for life
May and June were always my favourite time of year as a child. No, not because it meant the summer holidays were around the corner (although that did help). It was always at this time that we would make our annual family pilgrimage to the Abbotsbury Swannery
If you haven’t ever been – and you don’t have an aversion to a slightly aggressive avian species – then you must go this year! The cygnets will be hatching now and can be seen in the nests with their parents.
Interesting fact for you: swans find their soulmate and will mate with them for life. It’s quite romantic really. Amazing to think now that when I visited as a child I would have seen the same swans each year, having babies with the same partner.
It’s a tenuous link, but as I write this, in eight days I will be settling down with my very own swan soulmate. I am getting married!
Slightly scary, slightly expensive … but ultimately it’s very exciting.
We’ve already had two little cygnets of our own – which for me is quite handy. If the female swans fail to procreate they will bin off their not-actually-a-soulmate-after-all for a new partner that can get the deed done!
My soon-to-be wife, Ellie, is also from farming stock. It wasn’t part of the criteria when searching for a partner, but ultimately it did help. Working nine to five is a rarity in agriculture, and a 12-hour day is often a requirement of the role, so an understanding partner is a must. For us, the hours are often made worse by then having to spend an extra two hours after work looking for our spaniel Wilf (every reader’s favourite) in the neighbouring farms, because he has done another runner.
With Ellie being of agri-stock, I thought I’d woo her by bringing her to the farm on one of our first dates. Unfortunately, my abysmal tractor driving was not that impressive and when she began to laugh at me I thought I was in trouble.
I had to do something fast to save the future I had mapped out for us in my head. I was desperate. I’m not proud of what I did, but in rural communities, it’s hard to find a partner. Needs must.
I parked up the tractor and walked her across the fields to show her the cattle – or at least that’s what she thought …
As we stood in the end paddock the herd saw us and came bounding over with excitement.
She liked the Aberdeen Angus, and the beautiful view of the Dorset coastline in the distance did me no harm either. But then, from behind the black beauties, came a terrifying monster.
Dishevelled, unkempt and spitting with rage … and Ellie’s first meet with our old pal Peppa the Alpaca.
Furious that we had approached his girls, he spat a cocktail of grass and phlegm in our direction, snarling his two buck teeth.
Ellie looked frightened.
My plan was working.
Proudly (and bravely, I need to point out), I stood alongside the scraggy monster-beast. With both of us in her view, I broke a small, hopeful smile.
She looked us up and down, sighed, shrugged her shoulders and blatantly thought to herself: “I guess it could be worse.”
Six years later, Ellie will now become Mrs It-Could-Be-Worse. Thankfully for me, she forgot she could do better … much better.
