These past few weeks, I have noticed a huge flock of golden plovers – or congregation.

They land in my field and then erupt into the sky with a massive flapping (sounds like whirring) of wings, swooping over me.

It is an awesome sight.

There are hundreds of golden plovers and I stand watching them (praying they don’t poop on me!) while they decide on their next place to land.

It can take a few minutes while they all fly in formation suddenly turning as one and changing colour as their pale under-carriage and wings are now on show.  Most amazing.

These are European Golden Plovers – Pluvialis apricaria.

Meanwhile, back on earth, a certain horse is in my bad books.  Haakon and his friends are on a diet, for obvious reasons, but they are not happy about it while the weather is vile.

As it is about to turn again, I caved, opened the gate and shouted.  No one was asked twice.  There was a thunder of hooves, some squealing/bucking and then they all quickly settled down.

Taktur was very pleased to see the adults.

He gets very bored of Minion sitting.

Then Lambie and Lambert started to complain about having to be proper sheep living in a field. Yes, I let them out only to find them pressed up against the front door, trying to get in.

They have their own bedroom and they can go in there during the storm.  Lambie’s beautiful eyes are not going to sway me.

No, no, no!  (He does have the loveliest eyes, though!)

After my weekly flute lesson, and in my posh (read clean) clothes, I drove home via Sandness to look at the girls.

There is going to be a big gale with a fair amount of rain tonight and then again in 24 hours time.

Lyra is fine.

I think the description is a “leg at each corner”!

Her mother, Vitamin, is also looking good.

That is one beautiful Shetland pony bottom and belly.

These two ladies are still very close and have very loving mother-daughter relationship.

But I will worry for the next 48 hours about Delia.

She has lots of green grass and shelter too.

But I would like her to have a rug.  So I furtled around in my car for something to measure her with and found a lead rope.

Delia obligingly stood still while I measured from the middle of her chest, around her side to her tail.

To mark her length, I ingeniously put some grass in the twist of the rope.

I went home and searched my Shetland pony rug library – there not one big enough.    I returned to Delia in the hope that my measurements were wrong, but the rugs were too small.  I shall order a nice warm rug for her.  I know I am too late for this bout of bad weather, but it might help keep the weight on.

So now the hatches are battened down (again).  Bring it on.

Thank the Gods for Hetja.  She is the best mare ever – kind, considerate, gentle and easy to work with.

Therefore, her son, Hjalti, who is not particularly sociable, follows his mum everywhere and lets me dress his infected fetlock.

We have a routine.

I catch Hetja,  She makes wuffley noises when she sees me (ok, I have a carrot) and then I lead her over the hill to the stable with Hjalti bouncing along beside her.

I would have no chance of catching Hjalti in his field – he is very uncooperative but Hetja is amazingly helpful.

Once in the stable, I put out two buckets of something and leave mother and son to relax while I boil endless kettles.

Once Hjalti has lost interest in his bucket, I sidle up to him and catch him.  He tries everything not to be caught but in a stable, there is nowhere to run and I succeed.

Hetja watches and does not interfere.

My OH then come in to help.  After I have tied Hjalti to the gate, OH entertains and diverts the front end, while I unwrap the bandages and remove the dressing.  Then I put Hjalti’s foot in the bucket to soak in the hot water for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, OH is introducing Hjalti to the hard stuff – carrots!

The abscess has burst but the area is still inflamed and smelly.  I redress the fetlock with animalintex, vetrap with a covering of gaffer tape.  Then there is the antibiotic injection.

OH leads Hetja and I lead Hjalti back to their field, over the hill.  On some days, Hjalti leads nicely and on others, I am flying a kite.

So thank the Gods for Hetja.  Without her, Hjalti would never let this be done.

It is good for him.  Hjalti has learned to be tied up, caught and to not make a fuss about his leg being dressed.

I wanted to move my mares into the hay field so Delia can put on weight (and I can perhaps put off the inevitable or at least know I tried everything).

The hay field is nearly 2 acres big (an L shape) and it has not been touched since it was cut for silage in July.

Everyone always loves living in this field.

The ladies did not have to asked twice.  They were lead in and just about waited nicely to have their headcollars removed before they all, to a man, galloped off at great speed.  A hippopotamus stampede!

After filling their water trough, I went to look for them to check they were settled.  They were round the corner stuffing their faces and I think, if I had tried to catch them again, I would’ve failed dismally.

So much grass – so little time!  My theory is that it might set Raw Deal up for the winter.  She looks fat and well now and I would love her to keep a while longer if she is not suffering.

Everyone is looking good and it has been a kind October.

We will see.

The measuring stick came out today.  I wanted to see just how much the boys have grown this year.

The tallest is Silver who is 34.5″.  His parents are 33″ and 35″ so his height is about right for who he is.

He would be classed as a midi type.

Then there is Waffle who is 34″, spot on but his parents are both 38″.

Waffle should be taller. Although hee is probably 38″ wide and in perfect proportion, Waffle is officially classed as a Miniature Shetland pony – from two standard sized parents.  Nuff said.  Poor boy.  The damage has been done.  There is no getting taller.

Next up is Tiddles who has shot up and is a huge 31.75″. His parents are both 31.5″.

Tids was never particularly starved but utterly miserable and depressed.  He has changed hugely this year to become a perky little chap who is gentle and kind.

Lastly is Storm who has returned to the shortest in the group.  He is 31.5″.  His parents are both 32.5″ so he is only slightly smaller.

But Storm plans on growing by fair means or foul.  He likes to stand on top of the muck heap as that makes him seem taller to passers-by.  If he eats the contents, he reckons that might help too.  He is the type of guy who would secretly wear stacks in his shoes and deny it.

I don’t think anyone is going to do much more growing in height, though I may be wrong of course.

And in this photo, Storm looks taller but the ground is uneven and I have been thinking for a while that Tiddles has grown.

Still, I love them no matter their size.