Wu has bald bits.

I noticed them yesterday when I found clumps of fur lying about.

So I took my life in my own hands and decided to comb him.  More fell out with follicles attached so I stopped combing and de-flea-ed him instead.

Today, I gave the matter some more thought and did the flea test (comb, wet tissue paper to see if the detritus turned red).  It didn’t.   So I made a vet appointment.

This is Wu’s Waiting-Room face. We went in and it was decided that Wu had been in a fight.  He weighed in at over 5 kg (I conveniently forget) and somewhere out there is a dead tiger.

As we were going to the vet anyway, I bunged Lambie (Pongo just doesn’t not suit him as a name) into another cat travel box.

Lambie was examined thoroughly.  He had gone off his legs this morning and I had spent all day worrying about him, trying to keep him warm, fed and comfortable.

(and perhaps getting more and more attached).

Lambie was given an antibiotic injection, some Vitamin C and I was told to get him walking.   He may have meningitis or joint ill but either way I need all your fingers crossed.  Staff Nurse BeAnne, who has decided she is not hungry, is offering support.

Still don’t trust her, though!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch……

Everyone is fine, if neglected.

Taktur has his Mini-Me, Waffle.  They rarely leave each other’s side because they are identical twins.  Yes, you heard me, twins!  Waffle still likes his hugs, despite being a Big Boy now.

Having seen this photo, I realise that Waffle has a fatter tumbly than Taktur!

Little Tiddles remains the personification of enchanting.  He still gives the best kisses, when asked, is loving, easy and very sweet.  Everyone should have a Tiddles, if you ask me, if only for the laughter factor.  He is therapy on four legs and has the best expressions to photograph.

Silver, despite this extraordinary photo, is a sensitive soul.  He doesn’t like change and he trusts me to sort out any problems – like wearing a food bucket because, apparently, that is what a ‘mother’ is for!

Storm is still, well, Storm.  I tried to take his rug off so he bit me (yes, we had words).  He loves his rug and, to be fair, it can be very cold at night.  I watch the weather forecast on an hourly basis and worry as well because, apparently, that is what a ‘mother’ is for!

The rest of the horses are fine. Haakon is full of the joys of spring and thinks he is younger than he is.  He also forgets that he is fat and unfit as we bounce down the road in a sweaty heap.

Little Pongo is still going along. He sleeps a lot and is very wobbly on his legs.  He worries me hugely.  BeAnne has calmed down, which is good and Loki has never shown any interest.  I still don’t trust either of them.

So that is us, at The Ranch!

Little Pongo spent yesterday evening asleep on my shoulder.  We nodded off together.

This morning, I put him outside with his slurry-bottomed mother, who ignored him totally.

She still has terrible diarrhoea (smelly green water) but is alive and sometimes on her feet.  She is living in OH’s old vegetable garden now where there is spring grass, water, ewe mix and hay.  Everything a sheep should need to stay alive but she is horribly thin and not long for this world. It would be kinder to put her to sleep but, as she is not mine, I cannot make this decision.

Meanwhile, the Olympic Team GB Eating athletes were offering support, help and advice.

It was ignored but this did not stop them from persevering.

Generous is Iacs’ middle name, apparently!

When it got cooler, I took Pongo back indoors.  He has a new housey to live in under the stairs.

Pongo’s favourite bed is a foot warmer I was given a foot warmer for Christmas.   He is very happy listening to the telly while lying on it.

Pongo really is a very easy “caddy” (Shetland word for orphan lamb) at the moment.  He answers if you talk to him and seldom nags. He just wants hugs and kisses.

Joke from OH – if anyone accuses me of anthropomorphism, it is ok – a little bird told me so!

Mwhahahaha!

Sadly, I found Perdy dead this morning.  I feel awful, responsible and useless.

So I took Pongo back to the kitchen.  He was very cold and, after some very useful advice from a friend-who-knows-lambing, I put him in the bottom oven of my Rayburn.  For those that don’t know, a Rayburn is a poor-man’s Aga.

After an initial warming-up, Pongo rallied and was transferred to his box with Staff Nurse BeAnne on stand-by. Either that or she was gathering mint and roast potatoes (we have had words).

There has been some serious getting-to-know-you and BeAnne is chaperoned at all times.

I trust BeAnne about as far as I can spit a rat.

Pongo’s Mum is in the shed. I still force-feed her porridge, honey and water gloop but I am not holding my breath.  She has that look of one who is waiting to die.

So all my efforts are being spent on keeping Pongo alive and I hope that S/N Duvet will do her bit.

Loki spends his day saying “there is no lamb, there is no lamb”. Funnily enough,  I trust him more than BeAnne.

I went over to Sandness (4 miles away) just to quickly check my mares.  En route I saw two Bonxies (Great Skuas – Stercoriarus skua) standing beside a hill ewe and her dead lamb.  You could see what they had in mind.  These are known as “pirates” of the bird world and I told myself myself this is how it is in the scattald.

So, back to Pongo.  He talks to me and I am willing him to live.  Perdy died, probably, of watery mouth – lack of colostrum when it mattered.   There was nothing I could do but there is are the what-ifs going through my head.

Later today, with BeAnne.

So healing vibes, living-thoughts, for Pongo. He is a darling and I am doing my very best.

Sheeps – update

Last night, Mum tried to smother her bebbies by plopping down and lying on them.

Incensed, after all my efforts, I picked up the twins, shoved them into a box and took them home leaving Mum to rot in hell.  Her blatant neglect and disregard was unworthy of such lovely little bebbies.

They spent the night in my sitting room, in a box, in front of the fire where they warmed up and were fed.

This morning, I received a message saying Mum was on top form, had milk flowing and was ready to have her bebbies back.  Being a realist, I could see my lambies were far better off with their mum than with me so I returned them, hoping for the best.

I found Mum standing up and I pushed her lambs towards her and left them to it as all was looking good (no rejection – they needed peace and quiet together to rebond).

I bloody wish.  I returned a few hours later to find the bebbies wandering about starving and Mum looking pretty vacant.  So, back to the intensive nursing duties.

Mum was put in the back of my car, the bebbies were back in their box and I drove them all home and put them in my small shed – it made more sense.  Everyone nearby to be helped.

So, Mum is still having porridge with honey while bebbies are fed every 2-4 hours and I hope they are sucking off their Mum, though I am not holding my breath as she doesn’t stand up much.

Call me mad.  Yes, I know.  But they need help and I can’t walk away.  That is just not me.

Meanwhile, outside it is cold, winter is trying to return and I am neglecting my lot.

To make up for it, I gave them a bale of silage and no one looks like they are suffering.

Except for Haakon who is trying to pretend he needs more food while he starves by his bucket(s).

When it comes to fat Icelandic horses who have everything, my heart is hardened to ice.