Klængur – pronounced Klan-gur (hard g).

What can I say? Well, my surgeon didn’t say no long-reining, he just said no riding and I want Klængur to learn to chill, relax and be ridden buckle-end everywhere.  That is very important.  He must trust me so I am working with him on the ground….

….while Daisy is doing the riding bit.

I don’t want energy, I want relaxation and teamwork.  There is something about Klængur – he has so much to give and we are still learning about each other.  He listens to me. I say stand and he does (on the ground).  I click walk on and off we go, stretching but that is all in the school which is a false sheltered environment.

There is definitely a relationship with us.  He enjoys my company.

He is learning about Daisy, his new rider and handler, for a while and that is good.  They have an honest relationship and Daisy can stick on most things these days if they decide to piss off home.

So today we took a deep breath and Daisy took him out on his own, with me and a friend following on foot. We had a buggy, small toddler and 2 dogs in tow and, to be fair, Klængur took it all in his stride.  We tested him out with the buggy first as he can be a bit unnecessary about cars sometimes.

And off they went.

The boy did good.  He pottered, asked questions, but never said no or spun.  He was part of our fairly odd-looking family and happy to be included.

So, when we caught up, we sent them home and continued with our walk on foot.  Apparently they met a car and not a flicker so I feel, slowly but surely, we are getting there.

Funny boy, Klængur – he has my heart….

…. and Daisy’s.

Icelandic horses just get into your soul when you least expect it.

Golly, I must go on a diet!

 

 

 

Taktur wanted to sleep.

I had let everyone out of their field to eat the long grass around the house and school.  Taktur had eaten all day and then decided to have a little kip next to us.

He was nodding off gently, while the others were milling about eating and it was lovely to see his trust in us all.

Sadly this trust was hugely abused by one little person who thought it might be more fun to play “annoy the sleeping stallion”.

Bozz-Bozz – I was ashamed.  Poor, poor Taktur did not deserve this from the little squirt.  He eventually gave in and got up.

He was much nicer to Bozz-Bozz than I would’ve been.  Haakon would’ve walloped him. I’ve seen him do it before.

So, Bozz-Bozz, who was not even slightly sorry, wandered off having achieved his goal and tried to pretend to be a traffic post.  This is his idea of camouflage.

Daisy was around and watched poor Taktur and his Nemesis so she kindly took the flak, so to speak.

In there, I am assured there is a Daisy…… probably being eaten!

Taktur dropped to the ground again to resume his kip.

This time, he prepared himself for a quick getaway by lying with his front legs out, ready to get up quick should Bozz-Bozz return.  I have never seen a horse go to sleep like that.

He was a determined sleeper, even managing a few quality minutes but Bozz-Bozz was an even more determined plague on his house.

I left them to it.  There was only so much I could do to protect poor Taktur from such irritations.  I had sacrificed Daisy after all.

A few hours later, once back in their field for the night, I saw them all asleep leaving Taktur to protect them from the potential marauding tigers.

He is such a gentleman.  None of them deserve him.  Too nice for his own good.

Eventually Taktur stopped being so generous with his time, joined the heap and went fast a bye-byes with them.

On Wednesday, we will let Taktur in while we are stripping Bozz-Bozz of his winter foal fur so he can point and laugh.

 

I spent the morning with Taktur, my newly trained Icelandic stallion.

He likes to have time away from the herd and he saw me trying to take photos of the beautiful orchids in his field, so walked up for a chat.

While I was bending over to capture the orchids, he nuzzled my neck, so I straightened myself up to give him some old chopped up broccoli stalk that I had in my pocket.  I would not put myself in such a potentially dangerous position if the rest of the herd were there.

Taktur stayed around, while I was taking my photos.  Occasionally, he would take an interest and ask for another piece of stalk but mostly he was just watching the world around him.  He is a very gentle soul who is incredibly honest.  He communicates all the time and so is very easy to talk to.

I have always been used to Indy and his “little ways” but Taktur is just black and white.  He takes it all in, assesses it and makes his decision based on those around him and their reactions.  He has a very mature head on such young shoulders.  He is only 4 years old.  Most 4 year old entire horses are thinking with other parts of their anatomy.

So I pottered about and he pottered about and we enjoyed each other’s company for a while.  Ours is an uncomplicated relationship at the moment.  I suppose when he meets girls and goes out more, we will hit the Kevin Years.  It always happens.

After the pottering, Taktur looked up and decided to re-join his herd again.

 

They had been on the horizon eating, not bothering that he had gone somewhere else.

Taktur does remind me of Ferdinand the Bull – a character in a story by Hector Munro, (with gorgeous illustrations by Robert Lawson).  Taktur, too, would like to just sit and smell the flowers in the ladies’ hair.

When he got to the middle of the ring he saw the flowers in all the 
lovely ladies' hair and he just sat down quietly and smelled.

I spent the morning with some fascinating spinners from a Spinning Guild who suggested I bag up the foal fur from yesterday and sell it.

I thought this through and decided it could be a good way to make some money to support the Shetland Foal Milk Service that I run.  We also supply Orkney too.

It costs me to do this and, though I never begrudge the effort, it would be nice if our yearlings could contribute by giving their matted winter fur coats.  After all, it was for them, I organised this.

So, I bagged up the fur in 4oz bags as we don’t have a metric scale.  I designed a label and hope I have put all the necessary information on each bag.

There are 4 bags with 4oz of pure foal body fur and 1 bag of 1oz of mixed fibres, ie body and some tail strands.

I did try to get out all the little bits but there might be the odd piece of old grass in there.  Sorry.

I am not sure where best to spread the word. I thought Ravelry, which is a central website for fibre artists, also word of mouth and even Ebay.

I think, in ancient times, foal fur was used though I don’t know what for.  It has incredible strength.  The Shetland pony only gives this part of its coat once in its lifetime.  The next year, and onwards, their winter coat is completely different and sheds on its own.

So, if you are interested in purchasing a 4oz bag of pure black Shetland pony yearling foal fur, unwashed and from the field, please email me.  The price is £5.00 plus P&P. All proceeds go to the Shetland Foal Milk Service.  The 1oz mixed bag will be a donation if anyone is feeling kind or extra generous.  Edit:  My email is frances@fstaylor.co.uk – (sorry, forgot)

The Shetland Foal Milk Service aims to supply any equine breeder with an emergency kit (consisting of mare’s milk replacer, teats, sterilising tablets, full emergency feeding instructions) any time – 24 hours a day – as well as other products such as Foal-Stim (Red Bull for foals) space blankets, extra milk, etc.

Would anyone be interested in the Shetland sheep wool I find in the hills from the Shetland sheep?  I can gather that easily enough and stuff it into bags.

Anyway, as a token gesture for your potential generosity for the foal fur/wool, here is a film of Dad, aka Indy Ping Pong. You could always clone him from this fur (well, only half of him as he is the Daddy!)  All I did was shout Oi, Fatty!

 

The best thing about the girls are they are all very easy to catch so today we tackled the Foal Fuzz.

Last year’s foal girlies, Lyra and Carina had to be de-fuzzed, ie lose their winter coats.

Shetland pony winter foal fur is massive.  You only ever see it on the yearlings.  It has to be as everyone lives out and they need it to keep them warm through their first Shetland winter.  It serves a purpose but has to go.

The fur mats and has an unbeliveable strength to fight the brush.  We use a Mars Coat King on them.

We also gave Carina a brush and I de-matted Raw Deal’s tail as she is about the right height for me and easy to work with.  She did appreciate that and just stood there while I sorted it out. My kinda pony.

We attacked with gusto, trying to strip last winter’s coat right back.  It was very hard work and the Lyra and Carina did their best.  I think they always appreciate it a few days later on.

The fur was collected up into a sack and is sitting in the back of the car.  Both colours are solely black and I am sure there is something to made out of this.  Apparently the Vikings used to spin with it or matt and felt it or make it into something useful.

Luckily, everyone was very helpful and that makes all the difference when you are doing such an arduous task like this.

Afterwards, the mares took everyone away and had a silly half hour galloping about.  It was lovely to watch.  You can almost feel their newly found freedom from their huge constricting winter coats.

Next the boys…… (Oh, golly, that will be a rugby scrum, I would think).