I have to say that I am more than slightly obssessed about all of my animals now.

My worry levels are through the roof and all I can ask myself is “what did I do wrong? What happened?”  I think they are all dead when they lie down. Obviously they aren’t but even so.

Why did this happen?  I have no answers and there was no post-mortem.  Just “One of Those Things” is what I am told.

The horses are pragmatic.  They said their goodbyes at the time, they watched what happened, walked away and never looked back or struggled with the end.  As it should be.

They have got their heads around things. I haven’t.

Eurovision was a good diverting entertainment and I made The Cake (raspberry version).

It was a fun evening for Daisy and me.  OH has nothing to do with it.  Raspberry gin shots every time anyone lay down to sing on the floor, and a shot for the word “super” during the scoring.

And I have been keeping myself busy, so I don’t think, going through stuff to sell for the huge vet and digger bill.  It is time for a good clear out, anyway.

The Minions are not happy but they are just going to have to get on with it. I have to be strong.

They have 40 acres of nothing and my aim is weight loss and no laminitis, not now, not ever again.

Last winter was hell for us all.

A few days’ back, Daisy and I moved their buckets across the wee burn (stream) so that the ponies would stop hanging around the fence and go off exploring to find food.

Today’s food had a new supplement, specifically and expensively to get them through the bad potential laminitis periods (spring and autumn).  So of course they hated it and walked away, looking in all their buckets for something better.

Tomorrow I will make their food similar to what they are used to and slowly change it with the new supplement.

Meanwhile, the old ladies live in the adjacent field.

The one with all the green grass and they are very happy, possibly gloating about their new found calories.

Yesterday afternoon, we found Lambie on his own sitting by Klængur’s grave which totally cut me up and I could barely go there.  But we had to see why Lambie was there on his own, which is normally very unusual.  Lambie ran across the field, passed me, to tell Daisy how much he missed her.

I felt very ignored and a bit bleak (I’m not going to lie).

Oh, fer cryin’ out loud, Lambie.

So Daisy led Lambie away and now he follows Daisy everywhere like a devoted woolly slave.

Can I get Lambie to even acknowledge my presence? – only on my birthday!

Devoted woolly slave.  Meh!

The words “chopped liver” spring to mind.

And then, of course, ‘Bert saw Daisy.

So all the boys wanted a hug.  The girls were the otherside of the burn eating (better things to do than be hugged).

I am not jealous. I am not jealous…… (repeat ad nauseam).  Yes, I am jealous.

Daisy can enjoy her title of “Queen of Sheep”.

Aww, ‘Bert – he does adore her.

And Harrel-the-Barrel tried to eat the toggles on her coat.  *** sigh, oh Harrel ***.  Happy to let the side down.

This morning, as the digger-man arrived to bury Klængur, I drove away to feed the Old Ladies plus the Minions and then on to town for provisions.

I needed a diversion.

I certainly didn’t want to be at home.

And here is my diversion. Daisy has come home for the annual weekend celebrations of the Eurovision Song Contest.

Bibble was thrilled to see her.

And she to see him.

We are all feeling a bit lost at the moment – horses, people, everyone.

Rest in peace, Klængur.  You were loved.  No more pain.

He had a suspected torsion, or blockage or something along with endotoxaemia.  We threw everything at him (vet and I) all day. We tried, we really did but nothing helped and we made the decision not to keep going while his body was shutting down.  He is at peace now.

Please don’t message me on Facebook or elsewhere. I really don’t want to talk about it. We are all in shock.