So far, Summer has been hopeless. It is a complete washout and far too cold to shear anyone.  I hate being this late and I am trying hard not to worry.  I mean it is only July but usually everyone is sheared by June and there seems to be no let up in the weather forecast.

Harrel-the-Barrel

Harrel-the-Barrel

Edna

Madge

Maggie

Lambie

Lambie, again

Ster

Bert

Bert

No one is complaining that they haven’t been sheared, except on the odd day when it gets slightly warmer and then they all lie around like beached whales.  But that is brief and one year, when we sheared them in June and it got cold, I ended up having to put coats on Lambie (who forgot how to think) and Edna (who left for warmer climes and got lost in the hill. I had to bring her home).  So we don’t want to go there again.

And so I am trying my best not to overthink this.  It is only the beginning of July.  Summer might appear, mightn’t it?  The Shetland ponies are still wearing their rugs.  I told you Summer hasn’t turned up yet.  I am fed up.

Yesterday, because of the three-legged walk, I made the appointment for Pepper to see the vet.  We got there nice and early and there was no waiting;  we were straight in.

Pepper is always very enthusiastic about her vet visits.  She jumped straight onto the weighing machine without being asked.

And her weight is good to know too. I shall write that down somewhere useful like at the front of my Farm Book.

I popped Pepper onto the examination table, as requested.  She didn’t object to being examined and bravely tried to keep her tail wagging all the time as she shoved her nose into my arm trying not to look or wiggle, though her poorly paw obviously hurt..  The conclusion was that she was A Very Good Girl and that her foot was not broken.  Painkillers were prescribed for the next five days and we were told no walks, just minimal activity.

While I was paying the bill, Pepper met a lovely labradoodle who she instantly liked.  Said doodle was not keen on the vet and refused point blank to go into the examination room when it was her turn, so I led Pepper first and, again tail -wagging, she walked straight back in with the doodle-dog now following her.  We left them to it.  I was very proud of my little girl.

As I write, the limp of course is now nearly non-existent but knowing the paw is not broken and just bruised is a huge relief for me.

Now, how to keep a small very active terrier happy with minimal activity for the next five days.  Answers on a postcard, please!

During the dogwalk, as I had a good phone signal (rare here), I phoned the vet and booked Pepper in for a consultation as every time I looked at her, she was still hopping more.  We go tomorrow morning – me, my guilt and my dog.

On the walk, Monster came too to do a spot of prowling.

I spent my time trying to take photos of him being a White Panther in the tall grass.  White Panther Cat is his official veterinary name.

(and no, he hadn’t stopped to have a pee. This is not his pee face)

When we reached the old derelict croft house and school house, which is at the end, I knew what was going to happen next.  There is a small window and Monster was determined to get through.

And this is possibly the first time I have ever seen him dirty and defeated.

When I heard the miserable wailing of utter dispair, I went round to the front door of the house and called Monster down from his ledge.

Can anyone see a cat?

And as Pepper is lame, I didn’t want a long walk, so I turned for home, calling Monster too.

As Daisy would say, “look at him go!”

Home over the scattald (open hill)…..

And Monster took to his bed to recover from the trauma of being a White Panther Cat. It’s hard work being an icon.

We all went to Norby beach, the nearest sandy beach to us which is about 4 miles away in the village of Sandness.  The weather was descending rapidly (rain and then wind) and the dogs needed walking before it got too nasty.

We were the only people on the beach, which was perfect. I love having the beach to myself.

Our friends from south brought their dog to Shetland and he had a lovely time chasing and catching a frisbee.

I spent my time looking for groatie buckies (cowrie shells) but there were none to be seen.

I did, however, see a bonxie (Great Skua) flying menacingly over the cliffs where the fulmar’s nest.  My first bonxie of the year but I haven’t really been looking all that much.

OH had set off with our dogs in the opposite direction of the beach as Ted is not a fan of the collie.  They had words yesterday so we are trying to keep the peace while they get used to each other.  Ted grumbled about the newbie and Pepper was oblivious to the tension.

And Pepper seems to have mostly got over her trauma but is still a bit 3 legged and limpy when she sees I am watching her.  The baleful eyes of resentment are working over-time too.  I remain feeling guilty.  She is good.

A quiet Sunday, spent with friends while everyone outside wanted their allocated ration of food for the day, which includes the afternoon round too.

After the dogs had their tea, I made the mistake of going outside to get some fresh air.  I had a feeling I was being followed.

So, being the nice person I am, I put out some bowls of grain. The ducks and hens are being wormed (for the first time), which is a process that takes a week.  This means all food is weighed, worming powder added and only that food can be eaten.  It is a most complicated process.

And the drakes look all moth-eaten because they won’t stop fighting.

It’s a result of too many drakes and not enough girls and I am not sure how to kindly resolve this situation.  No one ever wants drakes.

Leaving that dilemma behind me, I went into the field where the horses live. I hadn’t seen them myself today.

I like to check everyone is walking fine as they have unlimited grass (30 acres thereof).

And that they are also eating with no problems.  I can’t tell you just how much I dread finding anyone with colic.  It is my main worry.

There is no picture of Bibble as he was busy farting to himself (so definitely no colic) and I was downwind wondering where the over-ripe Camembert was!

Luckily, Haakon just looked gorgeous.  I have always loved his black fur-lined ears.  Magical, as always.