A certain “person” has spent the day not feeling very well.

Pepper didn’t eat her breakfast, didn’t want to go on her dog-walk  and has spent the afternoon alternating between dry retching or sleeping while her little tumbly rumbled noisily.

Feeling sorry for her, I wrapped Pepper up in BeAnne’s bébé-blanket while Mandy and I played flute duets.

Anyway, it seemed to do the trick – Pepper ate a little tea of boiled chicken and rice and says despite the odds, she thinks she might live.  Phew!

One too many mummiefied bunny rabbits, methinks.  I have thrown so many corpses onto the top of the container for the crows to take away, but Pepper still finds the ones they drop and munches away until I take them away again.

You would think she would quickly work out that eating shite would leave her feeling like death warmed up and perhaps she should stop. But no, off she goes to find another ancient remains.

In other worlds, Dahlia and Gussie were around with the other sheep this morning so Lambie was being weird.

I put the mineral lick bucket nearer the door so they could have a shot at it too.

Or argue over it. Whichever.

Afterwards, I put them all out for the day in the big field with the ancient horses and Shetland ponies.

Gussie came back to say he wanted more lick, please, thank you.