This afternoon, Her Maj, aka BeAnne Duvet, had a play date with a kitten.

The most adorable kitten in the world called Trotsky.

Last week, BeAnne and Trotsky made their acquaintance.

And this week, BeAnne was asked back for an afternoon playdate.

Obviously, they took off from where they left off.

There were pauses (pawses) for a rest – and yes, we did bring BeAnne’s bed so she had her space for time out.

Trotsky had his bed too.

And then he stole BeAnne’s bed.  Because that is what kittens do!

And BeAnne sulked.

This is because a 14 week kitten is so much bigger than a 12 year old Patterdale terrier.

But they were firm friends and hours were spent bouncing and chasing each other.

I think BeAnne is wonderful for the way she behaved.  She never put a paw wrong and she loved every minute playing with Trotsky.

She taught him what she had learned as a puppy with Celt (our beloved and very tolerant lurcher) all those years ago.

Awww, I love BeAnne’s watching baby films (*** sniff ***).

 

 

I have been not here this afternoon – busy collecting No 2 daughter from the airport to bring her home.

So, in absentia, I tasked No 1 daughter to go out and take photos for me for the Blog.

No 1 Daughter did good.  Very good.

She knows what make my heart sing.

Even photos of  Lambie, who was on a monumental sulk from this morning  because I asked him to live “in a field” ….. “like a normal sheep” so he could meet some friends of mine.

Lambie ,of course, then held onto that grudge for as long as he possibly could.

Fer crying’ out loud – who has a sheep, whose only friend is a chicken (the others had long since left him), and is still chanelling his inner Greta Garbo?

And this has to be the most boring film in the world!

Enjoy

It officially means I have no life (because I think eatiing the gate is cute) and Lambie is slightly deranged!

QED:   I need more gin!

Can you see the family resemblance?

These two are very much related – the same Daddy who is very apparent in both of his offspring.

The Daddy is Taktur frá Velli – Out of Tíbrá frá Hafnarfirði, by Hugi frá Hafsteinsstöðum, Daisy’s wonderful stallion.

Despite all these wonderful names, foals wil be foals and spend their days mostly trying to bite each other.

Dreki (this year’s colt foal by Taktur) has his father’s perseverance.

He never gives up and Lilja (our filly foal by Taktur) has his fortitude.  She does not give in.

Both of them show their father’s love of people.

And then back to the real task in hoof.

Best friends or best enemies – they decide.

Most of all, I am glad they have each other.

Daisy and I have been discussing this for a while.

Sensing the time was nigh, we grabbed four headcollars, caught and loaded the four older Minions and took them over to the field where the ladies have newly moved in.  Waist high grass needs eating down.

It was time for the Minions to live with Les Girls.

When we arrived, friends slowed down in their car to chat and I quickly volunteered them to help. It is always easier moving four ponies with more than two people.

The Minions were very pleased to see their new guests.

Waffle, the token “stallion” had been sorely missed, especially by Lyra who adores him.

She is still waiting for her man to grow up to be 17hh, like he promised. It is going to be a very long wait.

The girls and boys quickly reacquainted themselves with each other.

It does not take long for old friends to say hello.

A token gesture of running about and pretending to be a herd of wild ponies.

Like you do *** cough, Storm who do you think you are? Aww, bless him for trying. ****

Getting to know the new field.

And amongst all this, Delia, the old lady, ignored them all and concentrated on the important stuff – eating.

So, that’s the Minions now living with the girls for the rest of the winter.

Albie and Newt have had to stay behind in the boys field at Thordale.  As long as we have One-Nut-Newt, he cannot run with the mares.  I cannot take the risk.

Here at Thordale, today is Sunday Bonnet Day.

Obviously, every Minion has their own.

They all wore them.

(nose-kissey rewards for happy participation)

Waffle wins the prize for looking ridiculously good looking.

Now he can wear a hat.

He has style, flair, panache, je ne sais quoi and is perfectly at ease with his fashion statement (ear-kissey).

Storm, of course, wears his like it is an every day occurrence.

Since arriving at Thordale, when he was 9 months old, he has worn a hat on a regular basis.

Sadly (and there is always one) today, Silver said no thank you.

Newt (whose hat arrived in the post a few days ago) was with the big boys because he is one of the guys.

This is the first time Newt has sported this groovy apparel.

And, of course, he took it all in his stride.

He even managed a jaunty angle.

Afterwards, we sat on some rocks and waited for the hugs.

Silver apologised for having a moment.

He was forgiven.

Tiddles moved in our latest visitor.

If you want a good chat, talk to a Minion.

If you want a good life, wear a Sunday hat!

These hats are very generously gifted by Minion god-parents.  We love them!