I called the Minions down for their daily breakfast – they like to wait impatiently by the wrong gate and I have no idea why, but they do, so I shout and they arrive.

And they all find their buckets, beautifully laid out and filled by me, thank you very much.

And do they stand in a nice neat line?

Yes, they do. All except Newt.

He has to be different. There is always one and it is always Newt. Helpful, he is not.

And Fivla, who has to be special (because if she ate with the others, they would steal her bucket) – she holds the title of The World’s Slowest Eater!

A nice quiet dogwalk I told myself. That’s what I wanted. Only it wasn’t what I got.

Monster was determined to come too, despite me deciding to go and check the furthest gate at the furthest point of this 45 acre field.  It’s a long walk.

Here are the two dots – Pepper was way ahead.

It was a gorgeous clear day and the light was magical.

Monster was on top form.  I have never been this far away from home with him.

But he kept up, sort of – yes, I waited so he could always see me and shouted for him so he didn’t lose us.

He was quite easy to see, too, which helped.

I like to think everyone was wearing their Hi-Vis!

Once the gate had been checked – it has been known to open after a storm and everyone could go out into the hill if they could be arsed.

I checked the horses too.

And we finally reached the home field gate.  I knew Monster would struggle here, though he could’ve cheated and gone home via the garden, which would’ve been much drier.

He had a few “ew, mud” moments.

But he worked out the best route, like all of us do  – aim for the grassy tussocks and pray hard.

Someone will sleep well tonight.  That was a long walk for a cat.

Lugging water every day over to the Minions is back-breaking (me) and shoulder breaking (OH) so this morning when I found an empty water trough because possibly a certain Waffle had been dancing in it, I made the decision to move everyone…. again.  I hate the fact that they can go for hours without water – this way lies colic.

But, firstly, I took the dogs to walk the perimeter fence of the new field and I cleared yards of electric fencing from tenants way back.

It is a big “hill park”, about 10 acres of mostly rough grazing, with a patch of the nice stuff, which I am sure will swiftly be consumed.

There is also water au natural and Waffle can dance up and down to his heart’s content in there – just as long as he doesn’t swim.

I was on my own and so, to make my life a little easier, I took four ponies at a time, packed like sardines in the van.  It wasn’t very far, I told them and they all loaded and travelled well.  Even Tiddles who can be unhelpful.

Pepper, of course, came too and was a most welcome and helpful companion.  Such a good girl. So proud.

This is the nice grassy bit and the ponies have a herd of Shetland cows as neighbours, which they were slightly interested in.

I am exhausted now. To bed early with hot chocolate I think, purely for its healing properties.

Every morning, without fail, I drag three buckets over to Clothie, the five acre field, where the Minions, Fivla and Vitamin are currently living.

They know I’m coming. They wait by the gate, playing with their bowls, bickering gently between themselves.

I put the six rubber bowls out properly (ie not stacked close to each other) and put a dollop of food in each bowl, while distributing a proper bucket each to Fivla and Vitamin.

Vitamin has her’s by the gate as she mugs me when I arrive, which is a good sign. I like to think that she is feeling much, much better and happily alive.  This is her purpose.

There is sharing, which is nice …..

And then there is arguing.

I think Waffle won that round.

Except for Newt, because no one in their right mind would share with Newt.

He would probably eat them.

My job is to stand by Fivla while she eats as slowly as she possibly can, savouring every mouthful.

Albie knows Fivla is a potential soft touch, so he gulps down his breakfast and then comes over to try and get Fivla’s.

Full marks for trying, Albie.

From both sides too.  Of course, I didn’t let him.  Fivla deserves her own bucket at her own speed (though I will admit to putting less in so I won’t have to stand there guarding her all morning).

Every morning I do this and every morning its always the same – saying no to Albie.

Last night the clocks went backwards which possibly makes it the worst day of the year for all my animals.

Bibble, this morning when he considered I was almost an hour late with his breakfast bucket.  A little known fact – a chap could starve to death in 30 acres of long grass.  At least he had a nice smile and he asked nicely.

So, this afternoon, as I always do, I went to my shed to make Sheeple, only for the nagging to start at about half past two.  Tea is served at 4, Sir.  Yes, that’s 4 o’clock my time, not your’s.

The nagging became less subtle as the minutes ticked by.

And then there was the face.  By now I started to feel slightly nervous.

Meanwhile, behind me there were other pleadings going on too.

This time it was “The Lifted Paw of Actual Starvation” that was employed.

Pepper did try her best to get my attention.

So, with no joy, she went and beat up Ted instead which she knew was guaranteed to annoy me when he made a silly fuss about it.

For good measure, Ted worked the room too.

I broke at 3.30 p.m. as a compromise and to save myself.

(↓ ↓ this afternoon at not-even half past three – Winter is coming or has already arrived and got its feet under the table).