I am running around like a blue-arsed fly today.  The morning was spent waiting to meet potential Minion visitors and the afternoon preparing a meal for some friends who are coming for supper.

It was lovely to see the Minions and to introduce them to new fans.  They all behaved impeccably – both visitors and Minions

Silver was very keen to meet and greet.  He put on his best Winning Smile and made new friends.

At the end of the visit, I usually ask “if you could, which Minion would you take home with you in your suitcase?”

Many choose Newt though Silver and Albie were definitely considered today. You never can tell.

It is a different pony each time who wants to chat.

Meanwhile, chez nous, ‘Bert is still very upset about his horn situation. If he would come nearer, I could grab it but he will have none of it.  He knows this and I know it too.

Lambie has finally got over himself which is lucky because I am fed up of talking him down.  Some might say indulging.  Anyway, I have had enough and was quite business like about telling him to stay in his field like a “normal sheep”.  He has no idea what that is.

So, that’s me.  Vaguely cleaning, preparing, cooking and getting ready.  The kitchen is too hot, everything is now ready an hour early and drying up nicely to probably be inedible!  Ho hum. I bought some nice wine and as the checkout lady in Tesco said “it will cover up the food if it is revolting!”

It is becoming a regular occurrence now.  Every morning we are greeted by Brá not wearing her grazing muzzle.  Frustrated much.

To give her credit, though, she is much better about having it put on.  Probably because it is a daily, no my bad, a twice daily occupation.  I am beginning to think there is a second person involved in this.  The muzzle lies nearby neatly done up, with nothing out of place and Lilja is funnily enough always around. I am not pointing the hoof, but I have my suspicions.  That’s all I am saying.

The wretched muzzle, for all its going on and coming off, is making a difference and so we need to persevere. I explain it to Brá each time I put it on.  I tell her that this is the answer. I don’t think she believes me somehow.

I would be interested to know what folk do to their horses to keep the grazing muzzle on.  I wondered about plaiting the mane over the top to keep it in place over Brá’s ears.  I think that is how she gets it off.  Rubs it off over the top of her ears.  Bad girl.

We have removed all the random fence posts in the field. I am sure they helped with the removal.

I thought about constructing a small paddock in the field with electric fencing but I could not sleep at night knowing we had a foal near electric fencing.  I would worry and Moonpie loves getting into trouble.  She is a foal of very little brain.

Ho hum. I have ordered a comfort grazing version of the muzzle that is softer with a faux sheepskin nose lining, in the hope that will be more comfortable to Brá and she will learn to live with it.  I will win……. somehow.

Today Lambie is modelling this fashion.

Last night we had a bit of a fracas.

I found ‘Bert one morning with blood dripping down his head and his right horn at a very odd angle.  He was agitated but not letting me near him so I left out some TurmerAid. It took the edge of his misery.

I was hoping the horn would drop off by itself but, after a few days, ‘Bert suddenly became even more miserable – running around with his head on the ground.  I wondered if it was causing him pain by growing into his head.  So I asked our shearer to pop by on his way home.  The sheep were in a small paddock and I thought easy to catch (ha-bloody-ha!)

Once we had failed at catching ‘Bert, I suggested maybe we would have more success with my shearer’s experienced and well-trained sheepdog in the paddock with us to herd the boys into a corner where we could then catch ‘Bert and sort out his horn.

And with that Lambie went mad doing the Wall of Death (and we weren’t even after him), hurling himself at wire fences, getting stuck and in the kind of panic I have never seen.  We just stood there and watched him.  The dog sat on the ground doing nothing, absolutely nothing.  On the upside (only one), we could see ‘Bert’s horn was flapping about so we know it is not causing pain and will fall off soon.

So we decided to leave well alone.

My shearer and his dog quickly left and I tried to talk to the now-hysterical Lambie or at least get near him to spray his self-inficted wounds with antibiotic spray. I lured him into my shed and got him.  It had to be done.

Today Lambie is calmer and I reminded everyone that they had been brought up with dogs and no one had been chasing, just herding.  There is a huge difference.

I have to wonder what went through Lambie’s pea-like brain.

Here we are, at long last, introducing….

Sóley from Thordale

Out of Hetja frá Skeiðháholti (IS2002287901)
By Taktur frá Velli II (IS2009180242)

Colour: Chestnut with a blaze (Rauðblesótt) or maybe red dun – we shall see.

Sóley means meadow buttercup or sunflower in Icelandic and she most definitely is a little yellow flower.

There are also quite a few Sóley’s registered in WorldFengur so I think we are fairly safe with this name and it will be accepted.

Sóley the Foalie!

We all love her very much (and she is beginning to show a toof – I saw it today).

Lilja remains Sóley’s greatest fan.

They spend most of their day together.

I saw them both sleeping in a heap at Hetja’s feet this morning which was beyond delicious.

Surely Hetja knows these are her two daughters.

So there we are.  Finally a name and we think it is the perfect name for such a lovely addition to our herd.

What I am looking forward to most (in maybe a few year’s time) is lining up Hetja with Sóley and Hjalti – they will be three peas in the pod.  Mum with son and daughter.  Lilja be in a different family photo.

I have a feeling, though, Moonpie will be Sóley’s nickname.

And Sóley will be her posh Sunday name which we will call her when she’s done some heinous crime.

Sóley the Foalie.  Awwww

❤️🌼❤️🌼❤️

We needed a muzzle urgently for Brá.  What with pregnancy and losing her foal, she is even fatter than she already was.  I mean seriously fat.  The kind of fat that leads only to laminitis and disaster.

So I asked around for recommendations and ordered a Shires grazing muzzle. It arrived yesterday in the post.

Knowing Brá is a bit “donkey on the edge”, we tried it on and fitted it to Iacs first.  He was very happy to oblige and thought nothing of sticking his nose in a bucket!

So I went and caught Brá – she trusts me.  With Floss occupying Miss Lilja, Daisy and I attempted to introduce Brá quietly to the muzzle.  She said she was having none of it and threatened to rear, getting quickly into a panic about it all.  But we persevered talking calmly, not letting her have A Thing, showing her what we wanted, fed her a few carrots in it and we gently put the muzzle on and fitted it.

We showed Brá she could eat with this new contraption on and then we left her to it.

My main hope was that being an Icelandic horse, Brá‘s brain would kick in and the panic would leave and she would soon settle down to working out how best to put up with the situation.

I went back every couple of hours with some tiny carrot sticks so I could get near and checked everything was in place and that, more importantly, Brá had worked out how to eat and drink with the muzzle on.

Lilja is, as ever, very supportive!

I keep telling Brá that we have to do this.

The muzzle is the only answer.  I would hate to move her from her herd considering the mental state she is in over the loss of her foal.  The herd is all she has and I can’t take her away from them, restrict their grazing or keep her by herself.

So this is, hopefully, the answer.