It is always a tough one.  You have a field full of horses, the majority of whom are very fat but one needs feeding because he has a different metabolism. In my case this is Taktur, who is back in training, after a six week rest and using all his calories to maintain his gorgeous stallioness.

His three fat field-friends seem to live off fresh air, and like me, only have to look at an éclair before they put on weight.  I do understand.

So what to do? Taktur is back in training now and needs the extra food.  Bjørn, his trainer, said last night, that he wanted Taktur to have hay as well as daily hard feed.  Easy enough to say, but Taktur is not that keen on hay or eating by himself.  Last night, after training, he (Taktur, not Bjørn) threw his hay around and then left it.

Today, I stood beside Taktur keeping him company while he ate.  Obviously BeAnne helped too.  She likes this kind of work.

She likes to potter about, hoovering up anything she considers edible.

Taktur made the rookie mistake of sniffing her bum which resulted in instant reproachment.

He went back to the business of his hay net.  Much safer and far less spiky.

He did apologise for the errant sniff.

And BeAnne gave the apology her careful considered opinion, …..

…..thought about it some more, ….

(while Taktur continued with this eating thing)

and then she nodded off…..

….under the hay net!

Anywho, if you are fat and in one of my field, you are not getting fed.

No matter what.

Not even if you try eating your friends.  Thems are the Thordale Rules.

OH and I took BeAnne and Loki for a walk on Sandness beach and then we popped by to see the bebbies.

The bebbies were enjoying the sun and were running about like fleas on a hotplate.  It was lovely to watch and we sat in the car just off the road encouraged at this playful activity.  That was until little Silver suddenly vanished out of sight.  He had fallen and was lying in a ditch halfway under the fence.  OH and I immediately jumped out of the car, clambered over the fence to try and free him.  Poor thing was completely stuck and not moving.  I straightened out his front legs, and then rolled him onto his stomach while OH grabbed him round his tummy to lift him up onto his feet.  Once righted, Silver walked off looking rather embarrassed, if filthy.

So we went on with the Meet n’ Greet and Jo appeared.  We decided then and there to move them over to a bigger park where they can exercise, play and eat.  It has a shed for shelter too.

So while Jo got their lunch mixed, I took some photos.

You can see that they are barely bigger than Loki and/or a chicken!

Anyway, food is the way to their hearts and they devotedly followed Jo across the road to their new field.

They will be able to run about far more safely now and, although there is not much grass, they will continue to be fed three times a day with ad-lib hay too.  I noticed that their feeds are much bigger now and they enjoy every last morsel.

So here are some photos from today.  The bebbies are far more energetic but still don’t have the strength to get themselves out of trouble.  Silver was very lucky we turned up when we did but no harm done and, when the grass starts to grow, they will bounce about even more.

  

    

(and no matter how many bowls you have, it is still never enough!)

Perfect!

Yesterday, while we were measuring out our wormer and feed, we were offered advice and help from our in-house experts – the bebbies.

So, to divert their attention, we gave them their breakfast and locked them away in a stable while we came and went with various buckets of food/wormer for the others.

It seemed like a good idea to keep the bebbies from temptation as they are inclined to wander everywhere investigating.

When I was searching for the wormer at home, I found a tube of ProPaste so we stuck that in their feed as well.  It is a prebiotic which will help their guts and it will “enhance the growth of beneficial microorganisms.”  The bebbies said it had a funny taste.

Upon our return from the worming adventure, we let the bebbies out for a wander and graze.

They didn’t do much wandering, just hung around hoping for nice things or nice people to talk to.

Fiona had brought some carrots and threw them on the ground as they refused to eat from her outstretched flat hand.  They were very dubious about the carrots.

Torbjørn followed Jo into the shed.  Beeble stayed well out of the way and poked his head out from behind the rubble!

We have had the bebbies with us for over two weeks now and I still suck in my breath when I see them or feel their bones that stick up under all that fur.

Ho hum, onwards and upwards, or should that be outwards.  It will be a very slow process and one that we have to approach with care and a great deal of attention.  It is not just about throwing food at them and standing back but more like going day by day monitoring and assessing their every requirement to bring them back to some degree of health and normality.

We have been attempting to worm everyone when there was a weather window and when Fiona, Jo and I were all free.  Not as simple as it sounds but today we struck!

Previously, I had bought a bag of mix specifically for this task and Jo had put on some sugar beet to soak overnight to make our mixture more palatable.  Twelve buckets were put out plus one extra, in case, and we measured out a scoop of mixed feed in each and tied on a piece of string to the handle.

As it was a windy day, we intended to tie each bucket a good distance away from the next down the fence.

The mares and fillies were called and came running.

They sorted themselves out and each one happily ate their food, having no idea we had put wormer in it.

Next, as the bad weather is apparently coming back, we put out a bale for them and left them all enthusiastically munching.

Next, it was the boys’ turn.  We called, they came galloping.  Their field is nearly empty now and they have done a good job of it too.

Their buckets were tied to the fence and while they ate, we went back for the trailer.  Having seen there was no more grass in this field, we decided to move them to a better field.

Before me moved them over, we put another bale in their new field as there was not much grass in this field (or actually three fields – it almost goes down to the sea) either.

Charlie and Indy decided to try their luck with the contents of Fiona’s pockets rather than devour the bale.

Charm is Charlie’s middle name.

Actually, scrub that, I think Optimism or Hope could be his middle name.

Definitely Optimism.  He got a kiss out of me and that was all!

  

And then the trailer ramp sheered out of its hinge so that was the end of our day.  We limped home held together with rope and ratchet straps.  Bugger.

 

Every day Taktur, my 4 year old Icelandic stallion, is fed his own personal mixture of food that will turn him into an even more Handsome Prince (HP).

He is in a field with four other geldings and they are all a very happy little bunch.

First, I prepare his HP food, next I throw a handful of grain into the school to lure the evil stealing chickens away and shut the door on them.  At nearly £20 a bag of food, I am not ruddy well using the HP food as chicken food.

So, I walk over to the horses’ field having left the big Thordale gate open, shout for Taktur and he comes sauntering up, leaving the others behind (I think they have realised now that they don’t have a cat in hell’s chance of being fed as they all look pregnant).

I open the field gate, Taktur walks through and turns round to wait politely while I shut it again.  I always take a head collar but I don’t use it but it is for the “just in case” moments.  Then he walks beside me in open hill (no fences for about a 10 mile radius) and takes himself off to his food bowl.  He is very well behaved.

Being the good boy that he is, Taktur goes straight to his food and starts eating in his leisurely way, stopping only to be told what a Handsome Prince he is.  Provided is a small vacuum cleaner as well.

Once finished, I let the chickens out to finish the tidying up process.  Taktur is a bit of a mucky eater and tends to spread his food everywhere.  There is only so much a fat terrier can steal, sorry, tidy.

On the way back to Taktur’s field, I put his head collar on because there is trust and there is plain stupidity.  The ritual drink at the stream and he goes back to join his poor hard-done-by friends.

They get a carrot each because apparently they are starving – yer, right. Just look at that suffering.