I am feeling a little less exhausted as I have now fallen into a routine.

I went to bed last night at 19:00, out like a light and slept until 03:00 when I got up, got dressed and went outside.  BeAnne decided she was coming too.

It was a cold and there had been a frost, but it was a calm beautiful night.

The moon was on its way down.

The girls had spent their night around the house, with access to the stable if they wanted. Grass, water and shelter.

As everyone was very relaxed, I opened the gate and put out some silage.

They enjoyed their snack and then had a bit of a kip together.

There were a few chores to be done and suddenly I came across Wu who was out and about on his nightly prowl. It was like old times, ie before Loki.  Wu followed me everywhere, playing, waiting, running past, dropping onto his back so I could tickle his belly, if I felt brave enough – don’t be stupid, of course I didn’t, he was waiting to grab and bite me. I know this cat.

I spent my early morning in the cab of my van with BeAnne.  She gave me employment and I was appointed the royal tummy tickler.

As it slowly grew lighter, I watched the birds and animals appear around me.  Using the van like a hide, it was like a scene from Bambi.  There were families of rabbits playing and chasing each other round in circles. Birds, I seldom see close to the house, poking around while the shalders (oyster-catchers) bickered above me.

Yup, you guessed.  Still no foal!

Last night was vile – buckets of rain.  I left the stable door open so everyone could make their own decisions.

I didn’t sleep well so, at 03:00, I gave up trying, got up and dressed into my survival suit.

I found Haakon, Hetja and Brá in the stable munching away on the silage I had left out for them. They had been there a while and there was not a poo to be seen.  Most odd.

Brá was showing signs of imaginary contractions, so I popped Hetja and Haakon into the small side section.  They bickered like husband and wife!

This left Brá with the large stable to herself and Wiggins (black hen in the corner).

I am trying to be as organised as possible and I made the decision to shut the door, which Brá hates but it was chucking it down outside.  That’s my foaling bucket in the corner.

I sat on a garden chair with BeAnne.  She was a very welcome terrier-shaped hot water bottle.

After 6 hours, nothing happened, so I opened the door and let everyone out.  The rain had cleared up too.

Later on, after a life renewing breakfast, I moved Haakon to the boys’ field.  I had remembered that Haakon has previous with small newly born animals – it was a calf.

After mucking out and getting everything ready again for tonight, I drove to Sandness to check on the lads.

Storm was on terrific form!

I gave everyone a big carrot and told them they were notI forgotten.  They are checked every day.

On my way home, I saw a new plant growing in the hill.  It looked a bit frilly, if not silly!

I think the diet may be working.

So tonight, off we go again. I am running out of steam.

Well, here at Chateaux Thordale we are all very nervous and jumpy.

As you can see!

I slowly walked Brá up to the house and stable this afternoon because things are starting to change quite quickly now.

Haakon and Hetja quickly followed too but I decided to keep them apart from Brá but they can still see her.

I think Haakon has given himself a supporting role.

Everyone is on edge.  No, they really are.

The nursing staff have tried the facilities and are wearing most of them too.

Lambie is managing his role by sitting on and in the poop scoop (only Lambie would do this) just in case he might be needed.

After taking these photos, I heard a huge whinny and went rushing outside.  Hetja and Haakon were running up and down the fence looking agitated.  Brá was out of their eyesight and they were very worried.  I was going to keep Brá away from them but Haakon and Hetja want to be near her so I think nature will sort it all out.  I will stay up tonight to watch and wait.  Tonight is meant to be very heavy rainfall and I want Brá to have the option of getting out of it if she wants.

Well, to be honest, I am very jumpy and on edge.  Oh, the worry. Such a worry.

I have often wondered what Lambie and ‘Ster would be like in a flock.  Would they like it?  Are they missing out on a huge part of their social whirl?

So, when I was offered 4 gimmers (Lambie’s actual half sisters) to eat the yellow marsh marigolds and buttercups, I said yes, let’s give it a go, secretly hoping Lambie and ‘Ster would be thrilled and become almost proper sheep, with still time for their dear old Mum.

So the ladies were brought over one evening.

Lambie and ‘Ster were intrigued.

They were communicating (I wondered if Lambie had lost that ability since he never really mixed with others).

It was beautiful.

I was thrilled.

Born Free all over again.

The next morning.

Oh.

Lambie was very upset.  He said he hated his sisters. They didn’t speak his language, relate to him and didn’t even understand his moisturising routine.

He also accused me of loving them more than him.  We had to have a little conversation. I said no one was replacing him in my heart and he would always be my woolly lamb.

I tried to entice Lambie and ‘Ster back into the field but, no they were having none of it.

Tore (sisters’ owner) came over later with a bucket of mix and spread it out over some rocks.

Instantly, the flock were together again and I was hopeful that it might just need some time for this readjustment.

But nope.

Les Girls left as soon as they had arrived.  Eaten and gone. A quick date.

‘Ster tried following too.

Even Lambie gave it another go.

But it is not looking hopeful.  I tried the food-on-the-rock scenario this afternon but Lambie and ‘Ster ate it silently and the sisters were not interested.

So, it looks like it is not Lambie and his sisters.  He just wants to be a Mummy’s boy.

Thordale Phyllis was one of the nicest foals that Thordale Stud ever bred.

Out of: Struie Pippa
By: Millhouse Independant  (no, I have not spelled his name wrong; that is what his breeder called him)
On: 15th June 2009

Phyllis was an enchanting little foal.

She loved people and she loved to know, most of all, what they were doing and if she could help.

Of all the foals Thordale has ever bred, Phyllis was one that stood out as very special, and yes she knew it!

We reluctantly sold Phyllis to another Shetland pony stud who swore blind they would offer her a “home for life”, etc, etc.  (I now run when I hear those words).  Instead, Phyllis was in foal by the time she was two years old.  We were heartbroken and I have never stopped feeling thatI had let her down very badly.  I even tried to buy her back.

Out of the blue, I received a phone call from someone who said they had bought Phyllis and could I tell them anything about her history.

They had purchased, more out of pity than actual need, a poor sad pony with raging uncontrolled sweetitch.  She had that horrible hard skin from all the untreated itching and misery.  I felt sick as I found out in what a terrible state she was now in.

The Gods were smiling hugely, though, and Phyllis had been bought for a little boy called Edward.  The family took it upon themselves to make Phyllis right.  She was washed, clipped, blanketed, everything to cure her sweetitch and get her well again – both mentally and physically – there was no doubt that the foal had taken its toll on poor Phyllis.

And so Phyllis began to blossom again.  She and Edward slowly became a team.  He adores her, she adores him and she looks after him  Best of all, she got the sparkle back in her eyes.

Being loved makes everything better.  Edward’s sister, Milly, put in many hours with Phyllis and it was exactly what she needed.  When animals lose their self-worth, it takes a special person to give it back.

Edward and Phyllis participated in lead rein shows learning and trying hard, and, guess what, they entered a class at Royal Windsor Horse Show!

So, yesterday, off they went to compete – Child’s First Ridden Pony.

Milly spent an hour hour brushing that shine in Phyllis’ coat.

And off Phyllis and Ed went into the ring.  Ed’s father, Peter (aka, Master Dressage, Peter Dove) was at the other end of the lead rein.

In a large class of 44, they did well.

Ok, unplaced but a judge loved Phyllis’ walk and said she had good conformation.

Also, Phyllis was a saint with tractors and stallions.  What more could you ask for a small boy learning to ride?

Dear darling Phyllis, (sniff and blow) has been given a life.

I am very proud of everyone and I am so thankful she has found the Dove family.  Here, Phyllis is loved and here she has blossomed.

Thank you, guys.

I am so happy and so proud.  A different pony now from the poor little unloved Shetland that arrived just over a year ago.

Waaaaaaaaaaa! sniff, sniff, sniff.