Albie is fed twice a day.
Although he is very much part of the herd, he knows that twice a day (morning and late afternoon, just before it gets dark), he is fed.
No one else has this waiter-service.
Just our little Albie.
The others would like to be fed. When I say “others”, I mostly mean Storm and Tiddles.
They only get a look-in when the bowl is empty.
Albie, though small, is a very determined little chap.
And we love him for that. His determination is what has kept him alive.
That, and a pile of milk and hard feed, over the last six months.
We pre-mix the milk in the house and it is brought to the field in a one litre pre-washed bottle.
This bottle is a source of constant entertainment to those that think they too should be fed.
Of course, there is nothing left but some (ie Storm and Tiddles) won’t be told. The word “no” is actually not in their vocabulary,
Meanwhile, Tiddles continues to worry me. He is, by no means, his usual self. I spend many hours hugging him and telling him that everything is alright now. He is very down and I can only think that such a near-death experience has left him scars that will take a very long time to heal.
However, BeAnne continues to go from strength to strength. I have halted her riding career, though she can go out in a basket saddle if she insists, but no more horse-riding for Her Maj. She continues to follow me everywhere, come Hell or high water.
As I walked back home, I turned and saw a beautiful rainbow.
So there you are – proof. There is a pot of gold for the ponies of Thordale!
