No ruddy water again in both buckets.  Just some mud at the bottom and in one of them black fur (it is the Spring moult) ….. much.

So, we sighed, looked balefully at Waffle and refilled the buckets with fresh water.  Not suprisingly, everyone was very thirsty.

Waffle decided to go down the “I am perfectly innocent” route as well as “the fact that I am not even in the vicinity means you can’t pin this on me”. But I know. Those black hairs are a tell-tale.

So, feeling kind, we filled up the dog bowl we use for Fivla’s daily TurmerAid and went round each pony to make sure they had a good drink before Waffle emptied the buckets (again).

And then the little turd wandered up for his drink too because, guess what, he was thirsty.

And then he stood there maintaining his innocence all the while.

Yer, right Waffle.

After a little while, we couldn’t face this blatant lie and we also knew Waffle was waiting for us to leave, so we herded everyone away from the buckets.

I know it is futile but at least we tried.

Also, if anyone cared to have a brain, they could have all the fresh (untainted by hooves with black fur) water they could ever want.  With my luck, we will probably find Waffle swimming in it. I am just waiting for that plan to hatch in his evil little mind.

We took BeAnne down to the burn that runs through my fields for her daily exercise and threw sticks for her, which she duly ignored.

But she did go for a little swim.  Proper doggy-paddle like a proper little doggie.

Afterwards, Her Maj had a lovely roll in as much goose poo as she could physically find.

As the Boyzens happened to be in the same field as us, they came over for a chat (I love ‘Bert’s smiley face).  They were both very cuddly.

While we sat on rocks hugging sheep, like you do, BeAnne happily entertained herself.

It was all very peaceful and surprisingly warm.

Obviously Lambie had his own personal hugger/back scratcher and BeAnne got to work, in the background.

She worked very hard, with supervision.

We did warn Lambie that BeAnne has been known to lose her temper with anyone who gets in her way.

I think he was quite shocked at her bad language.

No, actually, Lambie was very shocked!  BeAnne can swear like a navvy if provoked and prodding her bum while she’s excavating a rabbit hole is extreme provocation in her book.

But BeAnne was on a mission and she meant business.  She would not give up, back off or go home.

So we left her to her digging. Suffice it to say, someone didn’t eat much tea tonight. She had already eaten and was feeling full but very very happy.

Just what the vet ordered – we discussed it today.

edited to say a Patterdale has to do what a Patterdale has to do.

Thank you for all your kind words and thoughts yesterday.  While my heart is breaking, you helped put things into perspective. I needed that.

Anywho, today’s words – Floss and I did a quick nip with the van into town this morning to get some more hay.

It’s that time of year – when the grass is thinking about growing but not quite enough for the horses to lose interest or give up their daily haynet.  When they walk away leaving a half-full haynet for the Spring grass then we don’t give them any more hay.  We haven’t quite got there yet.  Another few days, or possibly even weeks.  So I went into town to the hay merchant and bought 16 bales.  It always keeps for emergencies.  We just drove in and came straight back home.  We decided to go when we usually check the horses (doing the Minions en route)- a time when BeAnne sort of expects us to be away in her daily routine and so would not be wondering where we are and missing us. Every minute is precious now.

And then we came home, were met by an extremely pleased BeAnne and we went into my shed for a nice afternoon of making sheep-no-one-wants (that’s what I call them).  It is my occupational therapy.  There is quite a good flock now.

BeAnne is very much on borrowed time now.  We are going day by day and that is what we have.  Her heart is not good.  The vet confirmed it last weekend in an emergency visit.

BeAnne is spending her last days doing what she loves most.

Looking for bunny rabbitses.  Tis the season.

And today she found a lovely little nest.  I sat down on a cold rock and watched her have the best fun she’s had in ages.

My thoughts are if she goes, then she goes enjoying life.

BeAnne successfully dug up two rabbitses, ate one and brought the other home, burying it for later.

She was very pleased with herself and rightly so.  It was lovely to see, if a bit gruesome, but that is what terriers do and what they are bred for so there is no point saying no, being upset or stopping her.  It is my land, my dog and BeAnne has my full permission.

Afterwards we went back to my shed where she went to sleep in front of the fire.  She was very tired and had a good long sleep.

So that’s where we are.  Every day is a blessing and that’s all we can think.

Somewhere in Shetland there is a little faat black pony who loves dancing in all the water buckets left out for him and his friends by his kind and extremely tolerant owner and rescuer.

He just can’t help himself – like a moth to a flame….

Waffle only has to see a bucket of water and whoosh, he’s in like Esther Williams but without the flowery swimming hat.

Yes, Waffle, the finger points at you.  He is definitely the culprit, despite looking incredibly innocent and rarely caught on film comitting this heinous crime.

These are the preferred buckets, kindly filled daily with fresh water because of said dancing and they are always empty when we find them.

Luckily no one has to rely on this water because there are numerous streams, ditches and even a whole loch-full of water in the adjoining field below.

Which is lucky really because absolutely no one is talking to Waffle or He Who Dances in Water Buckets – that would be his Native American name if he had one.

Absolutley no one!