BeAnne and I haven’t been to the beach for ages so I squished her into her car-harness, into the car and off we went.

She was straight out and straight into the water.  She loves water.  Possibly an otter in a previous life.

The beach was empty apart from the seabirds.

Lots of Arctic Terns (“Tirricks”) screaming at me and flying overhead.

In my pockets were two tennis balls.  BeAnne likes beach entertainment.

And the ball came too

It was lovely.  The perfect afternoon walk.

I kept looking behind me to check we were not littering.

Because sometimes we were, so I would go back and pop the ball into my pocket.

There was enthusiam!

(the wee bunched bottooom!)

Try as I might, BeAnne will never be a retriever.  More your resentful you-can’t-have-my-bally breed!

Though, it was sometimes ditched.

You have no idea just how much I love walking with Her Maj.  Her little smiley face, her partial hearing and possibly-obedience – it all makes my heart happy.

We walked up and down the beach.

I even found five “groatie buckies” – cowrie shells, which I never see. Not ever. I always look and when I do, I pounce on them thinking I am the luckiest person alive.  Five is like a field day.

Are these Turnstones?

Anywho my little “otter” was happy.

And then spied “intruders” (she does love an intruder and I feel a little embarrassed for the poor person who thought they could enjoy the beach too).

Yes, the Patterdale terrier breeding came out – woof, woof, woof.

And more woof in case the “intruder” had not heard.

I went home.

Obviously with Her Maj.  She will sleep well tonight.

She is remembering her ruddy bally-ball.

They are now in my coat pocket – a tad soggy!

And this is the last time I will mention this, I promise.

Today, a Shetland geologist visited the field. We had talked yesterday and, based on my photos, he was interested in the blackened rock and the whole situation.

It turns out the the rock was probably from the burn (stream) that passes through the field and, upon further inspection, there are a good pile of black rocks there but how they got to the middle of the field is anyone’s guess but they had been there a while.  Probably random children who like to play in the burn.

This also might be a Bronze Age burnt mound but it is on the Maybe List.

The geologist also told me about the effects of lightning which he had seen involving poles and wires like what we have in the field.  In his opinion, there had been lightning and we could put this down as “just one of those things” with the ponies being incredibly lucky.  We all agreed on this.

Afterwards, I popped down two fields to check on the Lucky Ones.

As usual the herd was completely oblivious to their near-miss but they were very pleased to see me and my bag of carrots.

(Doesn’t Sóley look just like her brother, Hjalti? – peas from the same pod).

Lilja remains ever the Big Sister.

I kissed all the noseys, stuffed carrots into the mouthses and told them we all loved them and they were very, very lucky.    Tiddles replied a carrot would make him feel just that bit more special!

And that is the last of it.  No foot rot, no disease, just the Gods deciding they didn’t want to have two Icelandic horses and eight Shetland ponies going to Valhalla that day.

I think they made the right choice.

After all the excitement of the past few days, as well as a rather bouncy ride on Klængur (yesterday) when we met a fleet of weird and wonderful excavators coming towards him slowly and noisily, I decided to give myself a quiet day to potter about the croft, relax and re-group.

(And shout at Efstur for his wicked ways – bloody horses!)

Daisy was giving a riding-lesson in the indoor school, and I had been asked to come along for a second opinion on a saddle (like I know anything!) when I heard huge splashing coming from outside.

And, at last, I had seen my ducky-wuckies actually using their pond rather than just knowing they did by the daily water colour change.

They were all having a lovely time.

There was one fight – black-head duck probably splashed water in her eyes and white-head duck took offence. They were vicious. I was shocked.

This is the face of the winner – the one who did not involve herself in such petty squabbles.  I adore my ducks.  They are a joy to watch.  However, we are now down to six having lost one, I think, probably to an otter.  Tis the way.

The Icelandic boys were also around and Taktur spent the afternoon gazing into the middle distance imagining he could hear ladies calling to him – they were calling to the horse in the school.

but he could pretend in his dreams……

Dreki wanted to come into the school and join in which was not going to happen.

It was a nice peaceful day. I like a quiet life, I do.

Today the vet came out to the field to examine the rest of the ponies and their environs. It was the same vet we saw yesterday with Fivla and Tiddles.

Daisy and I started by catching Lilja and Sóley and they had their feet picked up, cleaned and examined.

Then the vet went round each Shetland pony and thoroughly examined their feet too.

Fronts and backs. No stone unturned. No hoof not looked at.

Afterwards, I asked that he listened to Fivla and Tiddles’ hearts to see that they were healthy.  Albie may have wanted to help!

The findings:

There is absolutely no evidence in any of the ponies and horses of footrot, foot necrosis, thrush or anything diseased.  In the vet’s opinion all the horses and ponies were fit, healthy and in rude health in every way.  He said that you have to expect variation in the frog appearance between each horse.  The appearance of Fivla’s and Tiddles’ hooves was inexplicable.  He thought their field was perfect and he could find no apparent evidence of lightning strike.   He even remarked on just how well behaved they all were too (which was nice ***proud Mum sniff now ***).

So there we are.  Who knows?  We have no idea what happened but at least everyone is alive and healthy and that, at the end of the day, is all that really matters.  What occurred is a total mystery. “Just one of those things.” Something did. No one knows what.

My guess it was aliens and I am looking for crop circles next. I have walked round the field so many times now, I am surprised I haven’t seen them, though Storm probably ate them!

Yesterday , I received a message saying that the most likely explanation for the appearance of the ponies’ feet  was rotten hoof frog and not burning. However, after doing some research online about thrush, Daisy and I agreed that we had not smelled the typical necrotic, rotten smell of sulphur or seen any thick black discharge on the frog. Just the smell of hot-shoeing, which we know very well and the complete disappearance of soft frog tissue. All the ponies have had regular trims from us or Stephen Gardiner (a registered farrier) and have been in a dry field for over a month.

So I worried all night that a) I was the worst owner ever, and b) I had panicked, added 2 + 2, getting 5, whilst jumping to the wrong conclusions – it has been known. I can be a drama llama and a wrong one at that.

This morning, first thing, I made a vet appointment. Daisy and I drove Fivla and Tiddles (the ones worst affected – Fivla with now trimmed hooves and Tiddles with untrimmed) and drove them to the surgery in Scalloway (about an hour away).

The others were furious at being left behind.

We unloaded Tiddles and Fivla in the surgery car-park (sorry no photos as I thought I had forgotten my phone) and the vet came out.  He was a locum, who comes up to Shetland regularly, and said he had seen many animals struck by lightning and, if it had been lightning, they would be dead.  He then, before he examined all their hooves, said it was, in most likelihood, to be foot-rot of some description, very probably thrush.

The vet then picked up each hoof, dug about and thoroughly examinined.  Afterwards, he stood up and said “You know, I think you are right!  I can see absolutely no evidence of any rot of any kind and yes, it does look burnt”. We explained our set up – ie the field, the horses behaviour and like us, he was baffled but wanted to examine the other ponies, more out of interest than treatment.  He also told us to continue exactly what we were doing and that their feet would heal in time.

Daisy and I felt vindicated and sort of relieved.

When we got home, the herd were pleased to see us and, after feeding painkillers and spraying their feet, we decided to put everyone back in their old field as the grass had grown up again.  They all galloped off happily.

Then Daisy and I walked about looking for scorch marks, anything really.  There are two electric poles in the field and one electric box just outwith, by the road.  We could see nothing obvious.

I was walking back to the gate, when I saw some unusual small black rocks lying on the grass.

They looked burnt.

I picked up a couple and showed them to Daisy who easily broke them in half.  They are made of the pink granite.

So, more evidence and we will see what the vet says tomorrow afternoon.  Please God let everyone behave with no giggling or hassling.