Well, here we all are.

‘Bert is beginning to fill out in the right way rather than the wormy-belly way.  He comes up for scratches and chats and he is definitely my Monkey.

BeAnne is coming along leaps and bounds.  She jumped up onto my bed this morning and that, for her, is a huge achievement.  She even went on today’s dog walk with Loki and Daisy.

Storm and Tiddles have joined the others in the big back field.

Tiddles is much quieter since his ordeal but he still loves being hugged.

Delia is enjoying being home.

Waffle has decided he is “a big black” (Shetland).

It is an exclusive club and he is very happy pretending.  It is all perspective.

Fivla is lives with Tor and Albie in the little field.  She works hard twice a day and the weight is slowly coming off.  She is stabled at night.  Anyway, she spends her time outside cantering up and down the fence waving her bottom at Klængur and squealing if anyone looks at her.

Albie is lonely.  I played with him in the field this afternoon but I am not who he needs.  Tomorrow we will put Tiddles and Storm in.  They should make him smile.

He likes Fivla but she just does more squealing.

I keep telling myself I am so glad Albie did not go to the Sales.  That was the original plan, when he first arrived.

I could never let him go away now.

I went to the annual Shetland Pony Sales in Lerwick because I happened to be in the area and not because I wanted to buy.  Yes, I did register in case but I didn’t buy anyone.  I sat on my hands.  I was good.

This is behind the scenes – the pens where everyone waits to go through the sale ring.  Each pony has their own sale number glued onto their rump.

First, there was the sale of tack and various Shetland pony miscellanea.

Then it was the ponies’ turn.  Ponies are traded in guineas.  It is a tradition from way back.  The five pence (the shilling) was the auctioneer’s fee.

The sales weren’t as busy as they have been in previous years and prices were non-existent or low, despite being on iBidder as well so folk could bid over the internet.

Many ponies were left unsold with no bids and reserves were not met.   A few went for good money.

And quite right too.  It costs money to breed registered Shetland ponies.

To register Colt/Gelding Foal (including passport) – £20.00
To register a Filly Foal (including passport) – £40.00
To license a stallion costs £168.00 (including Voluntary Vet Examination, DNA kit and microchip)

and that is just the paperwork.

So I fully understand why a breeder wouldn’t sell a registered Shetland Pony for pence.

There were some gorgeous ponies too.

Big

And little.

So I sat on my hands and came home with no-one mostly because I didn’t hear any little pony call me.  It was very difficult but I managed not to shop!

But I thought you might be interested to see how the set-up works.

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And in other news, ‘Bert is most definitely back.  I know it is him.  We have had long chat and he came stood in my arms while I stroked and talked to him, wagging his little tail with happiness.

My little Monkey is home.  I am very happy.

Most odd.  Most, most odd.

‘Ster has been missing for two days and nights in the hill.  Usually he comes home in the evening but there was no sign and I was about to mount a search party when he walked through the little gate I always leave open.

He brought someone with him.

I couldn’t believe it and there was a very strange atmosphere.  I am trying very hard not to anthropamorphise but there was a definite air of “I have brought him back for you”.

‘Bert looks very thin and rather bleak.

He tucked into his breakfast of Ewe Nuts (Lambie’s favourite – he just won’t look at anything else and it has to be served in his special bowl and not on the ground, thank you very much) and stayed with ‘Ster and Lambie all day.

No one minds the new addition.  It is as if Lambert never left.

It rather begs the question – is this Lambert or just some random moorit sheep who followed ‘Ster home?

I have to say I think it is ‘Bert.

Just a rather thinner, more worldly, version.  He is tame-ish, and will come up to me and let me stroke him.  A Shetland hill sheep wouldn’t do that.   Update:  He has just followed me into the stable by himself when I went to feed Albie his last meal before bed.  I easily caught him and wormed him and gave him some extra food as a reward. 

Anywho, the Boyzenberries are back together.

And I think ‘Ster is wonderful for bringing him home to me.

Here are some old ‘Bert photos.  I am hoping you can see the resemblance and it is not Martin Guerre.  Whoever he is, I think he needs us and I really hopes he stays, even just to get fat again.

Tiddles is coming out as they say here and he had a large multi-vitamin injection in his bum.

This morning Daisy kindly did all the chores while I took Flossie to the airport.

I came home to find the little ones (Storm and Tiddles) making new friends.

Daisy had taken Tiddles’ rug off so that the warm Shetland Autumn wind could dry him.  He still had a damp bottom.

His mane and tail are clarty from the peaty water while his body fur is in hard clumps.

We will wait for it to try completely before we attempt brushing his body.

Tiddles is not keen, at the best of times, on being brushed.

He can get very arsey about it if I brush for too long.

But he let me clean his mane and tail – I used lots of conditioner to make it a kinder experience.

He didn’t put up his usual forelock fight (that is when I end up holding a rearing Tiddles in one hand while brushing frantically with the other!)

Here are my two little visions of loveliness.  Storm is extremely jealous of Tids so I had to brush him as well and tell him how special he is.  “Why, Miss Storm, you’re beautiful too!”

Staff Nurse Lambie was around too “helping”.

After lunch, I went into the stable to find Fivla resting.

I sat down beside Tiddles.  I could see he was exhausted.  So I stroked and stroked him, willing him to go to sleep.

And he lay down beside me and had a lovely nap.

Darling boy.  I am so relieved.

I left him with his little Afternoon Nurse on standby.

She was wearing her full uniform.

This is the best sight ever from my front door.

Oh yes, my back put in a huge objection yesterday evening and it was duly noted.  I am stiff this morning but have walked miles with Fivla during her Keep Fat sessions (20 minutes in either brisk walk or trot three times a day).

Onwards and upwards.

So, where are the Minions right now?

They were happily in the hill park 4 miles away.   We check them daily and everything was fine.

Today, Floss and I went over so Floss could say goodbye.  We counted and counted again.  We worked out that 2 (Fivla and Waffle at home)  and 5 (Lyra, Storm, Delia, Vitamin and Storm) make 7.  So who was missing?

OMG!  Tiddles.

He was nowhere.

Floss walked in one direction and I walked in the other.  This is a very big hill park separated into two fields.  In the other field is a sink hole that has been fenced off.

I was praying as I walked over the hill to the sink hole and there next to it I saw two nostrils, two eyes and two ears floating in another hole that was full of water and Tiddles.

I put my coat under his head, to keep it above water.  Next, I got one leg out but the sides of the sink hole were sheer.  Dear Tiddles didn’t panic and I had no idea how much time we had.  He had been there a long time and wasn’t trying.

Flossie came over the hill having found nothing and ran to help.  She took off her coat too and managed to fall in too. I hauled her out.  Visibly shaken, Floss helped me get Tiddles’ other front leg out and we put her coat under them to keep them out of the water.  It didn’t do much good, but it was an idea.

And then we took a front leg each and we pulled.  We bloody well pulled.  We would pull, and Tiddles would move an inch out of the water and I would sit down.  Get up, say one, two, three and pull again.

A million years later (it seemed like it), we pulled Tiddles out of the sink hole.  He managed to shakily stand up and I supported him while Flossie ran for the phone in the car to summon help.  She phoned home (no answer, left a message) and she phoned the nearest someone with a horse box.  No joy there.

While she was away, Tiddles started to nibble grass and wibbly wobbly walk.  I left her with him trying to get Tiddles back to the main herd who were near the gate while I went to fetch the horsebox, Daisy, rugs and headcollars.

Upon our return, Tiddles (and Flossie) were with the main herd.  With a space blanket and a rug on, Tiddles came home with Silver and Storm.

What to do?  Toweled vigorously, given hard feed, Danilon (he is stiff on his back legs) and put on his thick winter rug.  The others are next door so Tiddles can see them and share his hay but he can also have peace and quiet too.

My back hurts.  It hurts very much.

More healing vibes please – firstly for Tiddles and secondly for my back.  They are never going back to that field.