We have started to feed Delia daily now. I just don’t want her to get any thinner than this. It falls off her, this time of year, so very easily (lucky cow!)
Anywho, she knows the drill, see the bucket and follow the bucket. I feel I take my life into my own hands carrying this out.
In Leradale, there is a cosy little shed (sans roof) that is proving a very useful place to feed Delia.A bit back-breaking to get in and out of, but I manage.
We are quickly surrounded.
OH fashioned a gate thing to keep the predators out.
So the predators just circle the shed and making wanting faces at Delia and I.
Oh, how the poor starved suffer.
I can read their thoughts.
It’s not difficult.
But Tiddles is sensible. He chatted up Daisy first in case she just happened to have a carrot about her person, like you do.
The wall is probably eighteen inches high but the ponies haven’t jumped down. They know what Delia would do to them.
It’s a full time job, all this wanting.
These poor starving ponies live in a huge field with grass everywhere.
Plenty, plenty grass. How they suffer so.
Once Delia has finished her grub, she barges her way out.
Notice how Storm is first in to check for leftovers – there were none.
For as long as Delia wants to flatten me for her daily bucket of Golden Paste (a turmeric mixture) and conditioning cubes, and can keep the weight on over winter, then all is good.
Delia’s enthusiasm for food is her reason to live. I can relate to that.