Lambing has begun (dear God, please not with us), so dog walks are only at home on our land.  Never anywhere else.

My sheep are used to the dogs.

They are far too laid back to care about anything like two small terriers or even a cat.

Here is Harrel-the-Barrel’s most creepiest smile.

And then he went a bit “Dalai Lama” on us!

Anywho, moving swiftly on, here are Les Girls ……. Maggie with her gorgeous smile.

And Madge, trying hard to be tame but failing dismally.

As you can see Edna doesn’t care and Ted is now officially a croft dog.  Sheep mean nothing to him.

There is white and then there is WHITE!

When I sent this photo to Daisy, she wrote, and I quote, “I think this sums up our life”.  I have to agree with her.

But, in the next minute …..

Pepper: “Can you see anything worth chasing, digging up or eating?”
Monster: “I’m always looking.”

Pepper:  “Well?”
Monster: “Nope!”

Cat and dog work as a team and tend to forget (read lose) Ted as he barks a lot when he is hunting. Patterdale terriers are silent hunters.  Monster does his best.

And now this is where it gets weird.  Monster sat on a rock in the middle of the burn (stream).

And I looked at him and wondered – was his tail really floating on the top of the water?  And, yes, yes it was!  It was all wet on the under-side when I felt it.

Who does that?  Monster, that’s who because he is officially weird.  There, I’ve said it.

A lovely day today, and everyone lined up politely to eat their scoop of minerals/vitamins.  Storm didn’t even bother to flip over the rubber feed skips as I set them out – he thinks it’s funny!  That’s how good everyone was today.

And I remembered that the other day, in a gale and lashing rain, that I had given Fivla’s bucket to Silver because I couldn’t tell them apart at the time.

In my defence, and Flossie will tell you, it is an easy mistake to make.

This is Fivla.

And this is Silver, who is every day becoming increasingly greyer (you don’t say white in the horsey world).

They sometimes even have the same facial expression.

Obviously I whipped the bucket swiftly away from Silver, when I saw Fivla’s little sad face of “but, but where’s my bucket” as I went along the line dishing out food.  I double check now.  I don’t want to make the same mistake again.

Food is highly prized in this field.

It’s every “man” or pony for himself but I do keep guard on Fivla as she is not very good at keeping her food.

This is about as cross as she gets with the vultures.  It’s not exactly scary, like Vitamin who terrifies even me!

There is grass out there. Honest.

The ponies just have to go further afield than their beloved rock and find it.

And if they don’t, they will starve because this is their field for possibly the rest of their lives, though I might move them this Autumn into a hill field.  We will see, as my mother used to say.

Today I am having a day off from being me.

But first too town, which was depressingly empty.

I refilled my sheeple field and know that I have to keep making more, which is good – it pays bills for those that never stop eating.

I enjoyed the gorgeous Jamieon’s shop windows. They are very clever.

So innovative.

And then off to a funeral, which was, well, what it was.  I am not great at funerals…. hence my wish for a day off from being me (sorry!)

This is the “rainy day” field that I save for when things are tough and we need a bit more grass.

I opened the gate yesterday and the old folk moved in like whippets and now they are almost deliberately goading the Minions about it.  Poor, poor half-starved Minions.

The horses eat at them, while the miserable orphans stand by the fence like the cast of “Oliver” looking on.

I tell myself this is for the best.  I remind myself of the many, many months that Albie, Tiddles, Storm and Waffle had to live inside and I don’t want it to happen again.

On the plus side, Haakon, Iacs, Klaengur and Kolka are very happy with this new location.

And I wormed everyone today with total success – ie nothing was spat out, I didn’t go home clarted in the stuff, and everyone was very nice about it.  I didn’t even need a headcollar.  Just grabbed a handful of chinhairs and squirted the required dose down.

Today has been all about wind and rain, and I refuse to give up my weather obsession.

I hurriedly fed everyone equine and ovine, but spent my spare time collecting the windblown buckets from their fields.  I generously opened up the small haypark for the oldies. Kolka trotted in followed by the rest of them.  The Minions looked on in shock.  I am sure they thought they were saving that for their own rainy day.

This afternoon saw me in my shed making sheep while watching Schitt’s Creek, which is my latest addiction.  It is brilliant. I highly recommend.

The dogs slept while I worked.

Yes, they slept and they didn’t annoy.

There has been intense training for this – I bribe them first with a hefty chew of some part of a dead animal and then, in thanks, they shut up for the afternoon.

They have the chaise longue to themselves.

Ted doing his best, but tasteful,  “Burt Reynolds”!

Monster is back to his usual self. This is from the kitchen window, hence the blur.

He is sitting by the bird table ever hopeful.  He has a nil success record possibly because he is just too shouty and visible.