Every morning the Shetland ponies leave their field and walk up the hill to where their breakfast bowls are located.

Every morning. Nothing has changed.

The old ladies don’t want to climb the hill, so they get their buckets at the bottom of the hill, by the gateway to their field.  They know this.

Everyone except, that is, Storm who apparently has no brain.

He just gallops around the field hysterically refusing to listen to me, follow all his friends or use his brain.  I have decided this is because he probably doesn’t have one.

So I eventually caught him when he came trotting up to me, out of breath, miserable and obviously starving.  I led him through the gateway and he galloped up to his breakfast, or what was left of it as he had spent so much time pratting about.

Afterwards, I went up and caught him, put a headcollar on and led him down the hill to the gateway, where he, again went all stupid and ripped the rope out of my hand, missing going through the gate and then couldn’t work out how to follow all his friends, yes all, who knew how to walk through a gateway and were now happily back in their field.

So I walked around to where Storm was and, when he had stopped galloping about hysterically, getting himself caught on the rope, and generally being a tit, I caught him again and led him back to the gateway, making him listen to me and not to his own voices.

Once I let him go, I could see he realised he had been a bit stupid.  He was now embarrassed.  Yesterday was the same behaviour.  I hope he learns quickly. I am sorely tempted to leave him outside the fence, but I know he would trash it.

Guess who came on the dog-walk with me?  It wasn’t even a particularly sunny or nice day but still Monster whinged and walked with us.  It was nice to have the company.  The dogs always rush off, possibly disowning me.

However, Monster had one small mishap when he under-estimated the depth of the ditch he wanted to cross and so very nearly fell in head-first!  His front end was filthy and clarted in dirty ditch-water mud (yes, I was trying very hard not to laugh – poor chap).

And then he wasn’t. All the mud had immediately vanished – just a slight bit on his paw and manly chest and chin.  Whatever that cat is made of, should be marketed as totally stain-proof.

Feline Rampant (heraldry terminology).

And we walked the whole circuit of the ponies’ track together.

We all climbed over (me) or through (Pepper and Monster) or under (Ted) the fence and walked along the burn for a while.

Monster is so intrepid and yet, so clean.  How?

And by the time we got home, you would never have known that Monster had been, albeit briefly, a brown muddy cat.  He has magical qualities, I tell you.

And, yes, I folded, and let the ponies back into their field as their track is so wet and very muddy even after a few days.  My new plan – track during the daytime and inner field evening and night.  I have no will power.  There, I’ve said it.

Yesterday, we woke up to snow – not a huge amount but enough to be annoying for everyone but I refused to put open a new bale and start lugging hay everywhere.

And so, after breakfast, I opened the gate and let all the Shetland ponies into the middle of their track field where the grass is slightly longer and easier to find.

Oh, they were one happy little herd, bouncing around everywhere.

Lots of galloping and playing silly-billies, which was sweet to see and confirmed no one has laminitis….. yet.

But the sun shone all day and the snow quickly melted leaving me thinking the ponies don’t need to be in that field anymore.

There was no way I would get them to leave their new found happy place without a huge bribe, but by this morning they were all lined up at the gate wanting to go and get their routine breakfast bucket.

After a bit of a muddle trying to work out how to walk through a large empty gap where the spring-gate had been, they all went up and ate their breakfast.  I closed the spring-gate and told them they were all back on the track.

And that went down badly.  They finished their buckets and all left in a sulky fashion looking longingly at their previous field.  I am finding it very difficult to stay firm about this but the spring grass will soon arrive and with it will come laminitis unless I keep them away.

Yesterday…..

My day started at 5 a.m.  (I don’t think I slept the night before but apparently, according to Eddie the WatchBoard Computer, I did).

And I drove off to our local, and only, airport at 6 a.m. arriving 1 1/4 hours later.

Breakfast was a very creditable, no, delicious, bacon buttie and cappuccino to wake me up.

The plane first stopped off at Kirkwall, Orkney (this is a new thing according to Loganair).

And then went onto Aberdeen.

And so to Woodend Hospital, via an NHS minibus. This is the very place (hospital, not the minibus) I had all my spinal surgery (x 3), which is a huge trigger for me.  At the time of all the surgery, I hated every minute and walked up and down these corridors trying to prove to my surgeon I should go home immediately.  I have never been so unhappy in my life and I went to boarding school, which was also gross.

After my MRI, which took place in a portacabin in car park (classy, eh?), I took myself off to the local mahoosive Tesco to get some lunch and to see if they have more choice than we do.  They don’t.  Just shelves full of stuff nobody wants or really needs.

But they do have a über-cool escalator, which tells you when to walk and when not to.

Back to the hospital with my lunch and I sat, watched a film (Genie – highly recommend) and then waited a few hours for the NHS minibus back to the airport.

Aberdeen airport was looking particularly good…..

The plane was a tad late but it did take off (a plus) and we landed at Orkney to pea-size hail (a minus).

Home at long last and I drove back in my little Eggbox in occasional blizzards.  5 a.m. to 10 p.m. – well, that’s 17 hours of my life I won’t get back.

I slept for over eight hours last night muttering the motto “never anything ever again”.

Every year I wait and wait for the first signs of spring and this is the photo I love the most – the primroses are starting to flower on the banks of the burn (stream).  Soon, the bank will be completely covered and I will have my wall of wild primroses.

But it is still jolly cold and I stupidly took off Fivla and Vitamin’s rugs this morning – and of course it rained sporadically all morning and there were some vicious little showers.

I felt very bad for Fivla, who spent her morning in her shelter spot refusing to budge, all bare-nekkid without her rug so after lunch, I grabbed a dry one with slight fill and popped it on her.  Instantly her eyes lit up and she was off grazing.  I must remember that ponies with Equine Metabolic Syndrome feel the cold more and Fivla is no exception.

Meanwhile, while putting the sheep out into their field, I found Pepperpot swinging off Maggie’s head in what she told me was a game, apparently.  I am not talking to Pepper despite all her efforts to win me round.

Uncool, Pepper, uncool.  We don’t swing off sheep, not ever, even if they weren’t being that nice first.

Tomorrow there will be no blog as I am off at the crack of sparrows to Aberdeen (weather, plane and God-willing) for an MRI scan on my spine.  OH will kindly dish out all the morning buckets and I have left him strict instructions on who gets what and where.

I have even done a Day 2 version too in case I get stuck. Snow is forecast in Aberdeen so I cannot tell you how much I am not looking forward to this trip.