Category Archives: Cats and dogs

An Indian Summer

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I’m running late today with writing the blog. Apologies, but I was talking to two friends overseas – (they know who they are but it’s my fault for not being more organised).

Anywho, today was another beautiful day and it was my turn to walk the dogs. I took them out and visited the old horses and ponies. We call days like these “an Indian Summer”.

Fivla didn’t want to talk to me mostly because I had told her to leave her wee shed and go out and enjoy the day.  She grudgingly left, probably muttering but she had been inside for a good 3 hours first.  You have to make the most of days like these now.

Vitamin was already out and about and enjoying the autumn sunshine.

She came up for a chat and I admired her always gorgeous “teddy-bear ears”.

There’s still lots of grass and everyone was making the most of it.

Vitamin is looking nice and round, storing fat ready for the winter onslaught.

I don’t want Fivla to get any fatter and I told her this which added to her grump.

This lot will probably stay in this big field for another month or so, and then the little Shetland ponies will go in for winter because it will already be nicely grazed down.

The old Icelandic horses were further along in the field.  Again, they are all looking good now.

And everyone’s winter coats are starting to come in too.

Not going to lie, I am dreading winter.

Today I Want to Move House

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This morning started as it always does – feeding all the animals.  In the distance, Flossie and I could hear some sharp barking, so assumed that Pepper and Ted had found someone to hassle that lived in the dry-stone walls surrounding the garden.  It could be anything, I ignorantly told myself.

When we had finished our outside chores, I called the dogs inside and it was then the smell came in with them.  Dear God.  The smell of polecat. The someone they had been shouting at had had revenge in the worst possible way and I now had two dogs that could not have stunk any worse. I wanted to move house, start again so I could leave the smell behind me.

Into the bath Ted and then Pepper both went and Floss and I thoroughly washed them.  Hopefully the smell has gone. I keep sniffing around the house, just in case we didn’t get it all off because you just never know.

And now we have two hopefully fragrant, wee dugs, if slightly damp.  Neither are sorry about this.  Not even slight remorse.  I have to stop letting them outside together in case they go back for Round 2.

And Monster slept through it all.

He did not involve himself in such revolting and earthy pursuits.  That’s for lesser mortals.  Meanwhile I was ranting that I hadn’t even had my breakfast!

Too Early

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I mis-read my appointment time for a routine check-up at the Doctor’s so I had 40 minutes to waste.  There was not enough time to go back home, and not enough time to go and do anything useful, so I found a well-situated garden bench in the grounds, just outside their poly-tunnel, saw a good friend, and we sat down for a chat.

The views were spectacular.  I honestly couldn’t have asked for anything better.

The last of the flowers were giving it their all.

We duly put the world to rights and caught up with news of our respective families.

Life was good sitting there.

I went home and made sheep after lunch. Later I went out with haynets for the ponies.

After my share of poo-picking, I went to talk to Lambie who I noticed this morning was sporting a greenish tinge to the wool on the top of his head.  The midges had been out in full force so he was probably rubbing on the lichen on the shed.

As I write this, the green (and the midges) have mostly gone now. Lambie is much happier too and life is even better when he’s smiling.

Celery For All!

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Lambie et al have just discovered that Flossie is here now and that she isn’t Daisy!  I mean who knew? Honestly, I do sometimes wonder at the size of brain for an average sheep who should know better.

I left them all reacquainting themselves and drove over to Turriefield where I volunteer to pack vegetables.

Today I was “on tomatoes” and then a large variety of other veg.

I came back home at lunchtime armed with a huge black bin-liner of celery tops and discarded outer stalks.

I was going to give the contents to the Shetland ponies later but they were already milling around the containers looking hopeful, so I emptied it out over the fence for them.

The ponies were thrilled.  The loud munching sounds were wonderful.  A bag of celery is always a huge hit and they have all been practising their hard-done-by look recently while I remain vigilant about their diet.

 

Tiddles ate his stalks like spaghetti, forever chasing them into his mouth.

The ponies had a lot to eat and later, when Floss dutifully went out to poo-pick the track, I asked her if she had seen any leaf/stalk remnants.  She replied that she hadn’t even known they had been eating celery so obviously no evidence remained.

Meanwhile, Gussie has decided Monster will be his BFF. Monster does not agree or give his permission.  I feel this relationship will not improve.

We Are Absolutely Not Talking To…..

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We are absolutely not talking to Pepper today.  She has disgraced herself beyond redemption.

She was found with a baby Muscovy duckling hanging out of her mouth – tragically, dead.  I am pretty sure it was the one and only duckling that I didn’t know had hatched.  Mummy Duck has been nesting under the container for, what seems like, years and finally produced a baby, only for Pepper to immediately murder it.

Pepper has been following me around all day, begging forgiveness and we’ve had a long conversation about friends, not food but I fear it has gone in one ear and out the other.  And to quote my grandmother “I am very disappointed”, which is far worse than furious in our house.

No else cares or possibly knows about her heinous crime.

Meanwhile, we are all talking to Newt.

Because he has a yummy scrummy nosey that needs kissing.

Go on, I dare you!

Newt is today’s Good Boy.  Mostly because he is standing in the only clean container and not stirring up trouble, though I did hear a rumour at breakfast that he was his usual despotic self, but it was only a rumour, mind. It’s not like he killed our one and only duckling that I didn’t know we had.

Oh, Pepper – the disappointment.