We left Taktur eating his grub, and Klængur and I went on a nice walk out in the hill.
I don’t think Klængur has ever been on open hill before. He had no idea about the bogs and floundered his way, almost panicking, through them. Shetland bogs are not horse-eating bogs at all. At worst, you can lose a wellie but not a whole horse.
I tried to explain this to him but he didn’t believe me. We had a wee sit down and a chat about it and I hope he could see my point.
The usual crew came too. Celt, for a wobbly ancient 16yo lurcher, still managed to enjoy his walk, trailing along behind only catching up when we sat down. BeAnne of course, looked magnficent and Wussums did his own thing.
We had a few stops, mostly for Celt and for my ankle and it was good to see everyone relax together.
Klængur was happiest walking on known tracks, no matter how stoney. You could almost hear him breathe a sigh of relief.
Jack managed to maintain a dignified rage for the entire walk. We are now not talking
.
I think Klængur enjoyed himself. He got to see a bit more of Shetland and he listened and trusted me so together we made the right decisions, ie no one was eaten by any of these potential horse-eating bogs that lurk in the Shetland hills.
I do so love looking at the pictures of your horses but my southern mouth has a hard time pronouncing their names. LOL
Rocky
Klaengur is pronounced, so I am told, like Klang-gur if that helps!
This post made me smile. I love your relationship with all your animals!
Another lovely post. Thanks so much!
I felt it when you were talking about the bogs. My first summer at Boy Scout camp I had my nice new hiking boots (probably not laced up and tied tightly) sucked right off my feet by the swamp down at the end of the camp’s lake. It was a lesson when I actually couldn’t figure out how to recover the things and had to walk barefoot the mile or so back to camp.