Some of you asked what happened to Velvereta.

Well, yesterday, we found her standing by herself in the field.  She was tucked up, rolling and not right at all.

Immediately we called the vet out, fetched the horse trailer, and got her to the stable 1/2 mile down the road.

The vet examined her in the stable, where she collapsed.  He said she definitely had pneumonia but something else was going on too.  He gave her an antiflammatory injection to help her breathing, and a little while later, she died.

His diagnosis was septicaemia or an abscess had burst inside.  The pneumonia was a secondary infection.  She went downhill very fast and there was absolutely nothing we could do.

We do not know what caused this and without a PM (post mortem), we will never know but we decided against further investigation as the rest of the herd seem fine.

A faecal sample for a worm count was taken- none were found.

She was in foal.

So now you know.  Just one of those beastly things.  You have livestock and then you have deadstock.

Velvereta’s time on this earth was precious.  She was an amazing mare.  The mother of some superb foals.  We were privileged to know her.

14 years old.  That is no age at all.

Rest in Peace my beautiful mare, Hetty.

24.05.2002 – 28.03.2014

You were loved and will never be forgotten.
Go with your foal and run free.

Another glorious day so I thought I would get the bebbies used to being moved into fields that needed eating. Their field is not full of grass but it does have their shed in it.

My OH has never let me put any of the equines in the garden – some miserable excuse about ruining all his hard work. I don’t know, I don’t listen.  But today, he gave in and allowed the bebbies into the old abandoned veg garden.  It needed eating down and I have three very willing helpers.

I led Torbjorn and the other two dutifully followed.  In another field across the hill, we were being watched.

The bebbies loved their new little patch of grass and and spent the day stuffing themselves or lying down in the sun.

The Icelandics were fascinated by these new arrivals so I took Haakon, the herd leader, over to introduce himself.

Everyone was interested and polite.

Taktur is the one who is most interested.  Since their arrival yesterday, he has been very keen to make their acquaintance.  After his exercise, Daisy took him over and made the introductions.

Last year, Taktur lived with our colt foals so he does know about bebbies but we won’t let them meet properly until the bebbies have been gelded.

Today was a day of new experiences for everyone and it seemed to go relatively smoothly.

They returned to their park this evening where the shelter is and everyone followed nicely.  Roll on spring.

Daisy and I mucked out the bebbies’ original stable.  At the time we had gone down the deep litter route..  It needed doing, they had moved out and Jo/Fiona were working on the trailer ramp.  So Daisy and I rolled up our sleeves, shovelled and moved the festering contents of the stable floor.  No more deep litter ever.  I refuse to discuss it as an option.  Just a pile of shit mounting up every day.  Loathesome and very hard work.  There is no avoiding the work and my back suffered.

Two co-codamol later, you could eat your supper off that stable floor and I was dead.  So I grabbed my coat, my camera and went into the Icelandic horses’  field. Everyone was having a snooze so I thought I would join them.

I walked a wide circle around the snoozers, found a dry(ish) spot, put my coat on the ground and lay down to catch some rays and Vitamin D.

One by one, Hetja, Esja and Klængur stood up and walked up to my prone body.  They investigated me very carefully.  I was sniffed and breathed on.  My glasses were fogged up by Hetja who had never seen any human resting in her field.  It worried her, I think.

Klængur was very interesting – he stood in between Hetja and Esja and let them know what was acceptable behaviour and who was invading my space.   He would stop them and get in their way.

I felt very safe and relaxed.  Eventually, the girls were bored and walked away, but Klængur stayed, gently nudging me while I kissed his nosey. He is very orange.

I took a few “weird” photos from strange angles, i.e. lying on the ground.

Meanwhile, once the trailer ramp was mended, we took the bebbies back home to Thordale.

Life is good!

I feel exhausted.  I think it is from the release of the results of yesterday.

In an attempt to redeem myself and this blog, here are some recent photos of the bebbies, who are doing very well.

Storm (inaTeacup) likes to scratch his bum endlessly on the fence.  We have checked for “friends and relations” but there is nothing evident.  He is so small, he doesn’t damage the fence like some fat Shetland pony arses.

I will admit that he is my absolute favourite – the most loving, gentle and a real “cutie patootie”.  He is very wuffly.

TorBjørn is a darling too.  He is impossible because I can never get far away enough to take a photo.  My constant shadow who has a cheeky little sense of humour.

I have decided to keep both these ponies as they have wormed their way into my life.  They are each the size of a large (ish) dog and behave not dissimilarly too.

Silver will go back to his breeder in a few weeks/months, when he is ready to travel and when the sea is calm. He comes from another island.   Although a little more aloof, I am very fond of him but have not let him into my heart.

He is definitely one of the boys, though, and we will all be sad to see him go.

So, when my life has settled down (and we have mended the trailer ramp), I will bring my little family home.  When I write home, I do not mean they will live in the house even though Daisy has plans.