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.

This is BeAnne Duvet Soufflé Princess Shaznay du Mezzanine.

The light of my life.

We bought her from FreeAds in 2006 – she was 12 weeks when she came to us masquerading as a rottweiler.

We knew BeAnne would have a rough coat  There were hints even at a very early age.

The fur appeared.

The attitude appeared.

And then more fur appeared.

BeAnne was sold to us as a Patterdale terrier with Gould and Nuttall lines, or something – I fail to remember but I was meant to be impressed so I nodded hopefully and looked vaguely intelligent at the time.

She is definitely a Patterdale terrier – which is a mix of working terriers.

Apparently her father is a certain Jack who is at Durham Kennels.  Suffice it to say, neither exist according to my searching.

Anywho, I don’t care who BeAnne is, though I will admit to having an interest in the breeds involved that make up such a special little girl.

So, for my birthday, I was given a DNA kit. You take a mouth swab and send it off to be analysed.

Mars Veterinary – Wisdom Panel

Where to purchase – Amazon.co.uk

The first one failed – I was happily thinking all her royal blood had probably broken their computer!

So, you can perhaps imagine my surprise at the results!

So that’s a Russell Terrier, Yorkie with a hint of Border!  A new breed – the exclusive,  and highly sought after, Russellshire Terrier!

Mwahahahaha!  Brilliant.  I am thrilled.  This explains everything!  I am sorely tempted to go and look for a bow now, for the hair!