Every morning we go armed with the muzzle into the  field to be greeted by my Prime Suspect, aka Lilja.

Lilja:  Hello, have you come to see me?
Hoomans:  No.

Lilja:  Yes you have. You know you have. I know you’ve brought me carrots and why are you carrying that funny thing?

Hetja:  Over to you Brá
Brá:  Oh no, not again.  Why are they so persistent?

Brá: Oh, fer cryin’ out loud.  They’ve added more bits.

Brá: Who are you calling fat? I don’t need this.
Hooman: Yes, you do.  Get used to it.

Lilja:  Don’t worry, Brá, I will help you take it off the minute the hoomans have gone.
Brá:  Thank goodness.
Hoomans (aka Me now hopping and down, apoplectic with fury):  Don’t you bloody dare!

Over in the corner, Hetja is playing safe by sensibly not getting involved.

Sóley the Foalie has got up from her little sleep.

She is recharged and ready for her day which is mostly spent far away with her mother, following devotedly Lilja everywhere.

She is a very inquisitive little person with more curiousity than fear.

Everyone is her friend, because everyone is Lilja’s friend.

I think Lilja is (mostly) an excellent role model.

Anyway, the muzzle should be off and back home by 22:00 when Flossie kindly does the last check before bed.  It has become our routine……. *** sigh ***.