I am sleeping in Daisy’s bedroom while my leg is in plaster as it is closer to the bathroom.  Staff Nurse BeAnne Duvet, of course, sleeps by my side, never leaving unless she has to.

She takes her duties very seriously and is reluctant to let anyone help.  Even Loki is growled at if he comes in so and we have words about this behaviour as she cannot behave like that.

Since moving up here, Wuss has been a stranger.  I haven’t seen him in weeks as he is the other end of our tiny house fast asleep.  Today, there was a tap-tap-tap and he appeared at the window so I let him in (ok, I dragged him in).  He likes walking along the roof.

Wuss is still nervous of Loki so he had a bit of a wander about first looking for his nemesis.  He even managed to jump on BeAnne, give her a pervy sniff and then settled in my bed.

So, not wanting to appear ungrateful, I picked Wuss up and put him on the blanket at the end.  I was spending the day in bed because I am still feeling a bit owie from the trigger point injections.

You can see BeAnne on the other bed emanating resentment – her speciality that complements loathing and hatred.

It made my day to have Wuss on my bed.  I have missed him very much these past few weeks and have been feeling very ignored by him.  I used to send Flo to visit him when she was here. I now have resorted to gleaning updates from OH.

For such a large cat, Wu has a very small lispy purr and he even chirruped when he saw me at the window.  He is a very social cat who is very unsociable but he is beginning to forgive Loki and can now walk through the house.  We have to shut the windows now as it is getting very cold. Loki averts his gaze as he realises his life won’t be worth living if he looks at Wuss.

(The film is for you, Daisy – the lispy purr – I know you miss him x)

They stuck pins (trigger point injections – now even that name makes me feel queasy) into my lower back today at hospital while pouring neat gin into a vein.  I hope it was gin – I did ask, hopefully.  Anyway, I am feeling a little precious and want my bed as the gin is wearing off far too quickly.

Outside the North wind is blowing, increasing to a gale shortly, and there is intermittent sleet and rain every few minutes.  Not nice.  BeAnne refused to go on the dog walk, let herself back in through the cat flap and is lying next to me exuding a very nasty niff.

Anyway, winter is coming and these ancient photos reminded me of a past Shetland pony herd who once lived at Thordale.

As there was snow, the ponies were given a silage bail to eat but they also happily wandered off and dug for food.  You can see from their snow tracks just how much travelling around the field they did.  I always make sure there is fresh water too.  There is a burn (stream) that travels the length of their field, but I usually lug some buckets of water too just in case the ponies are hanging around waiting for food and forgetting to drink.

I look at their long multi-layered winter coats and admire nature’s clever design.  None of these ponies lost weight, shivered or actually got wet in the long Shetland winter.  The many layers of fur trap the warm air between their skin and the snow acts as insulation.  The ponies instinctively turn their bums into the wind and bad weather.  The Icelandic horses do it too.  It is just something they know to how to do.

This is rather a random blog as I just picked a disk from my collection to write about.  You really do not want to hear about the gin or the needles.

Once upon a time Andy and Charlie were clean and tidy.  These two hairy-fairies scrubbed up very nicely and used to do posh things like competing at big shows both in Shetland and in Scotland.

We started by showing them as a pair.  They were very “enthusiastic” which actually means “sometimes out of control”.  Side by side in harness, Andy and Charlie would start to race.  In this picture at a local show, an important nut/bolt fell off the carriage because of their behaviour.

The week before we left for The Royal Highland Show, Jo drove Andy and Charlie out on the road as a pair. I was the groom.  They were terrifying and when we were galloped towards a cattle grid, we seriously wondered whether they would actually stop.

A decision had to be made and quickly.  Could we go to an important show, and therefore be seen in public, with two out-of-control racing Shetland ponies in harness?  We sat at my kitchen table over a cup of tea, trying to calm our nerves whilst deliberating over what to do.  If we were going to change the set-up, now was the time to do it.  A deep breath and we decided to try Andy and Charlie as a tandem.  We had never done it with them, driving them only as a pair, but this set-up was not working and they were becoming too dangerous to be driven.  Jo went home and adapted their show harness to tandem and off we travelled to The Royal Highland show with baited breath.

The Gods smiled and the boys did very well – they won their class.  This was probably their second time out as a tandem.  Charlie, as the leader, could not race Andy if he was always behind him so he trotted along happily, enjoying the attention and did his best not to be a prat.  Andy as the wheeler was steady and in his element.  He did a good job and most of the work!

We even made it to the Grand Parade at the end of the day when there was a torrential downpour.  Note the loose traces and Charlie pointing his little hooves to look pretty – perfect.

Andy and Charlie have never been driven as a pair again.

Ever!

In 2005, Jo and I went to visit Hestigarth Stud looking for large colts to train up to harness.  We purchased two half-brothers, Hestigarth Floyd and Hestigarth Finlay.  They shared the same sire, Tirval of Quendale.

As they were only bebbies when we bought them, we decided to throw Floyd and Finlay in with a load of other youngsters where they could learn to grow up in a herd environment, which they loved.  It was great.  You could go into this huge field, shout their names and little ears would pop up from over the hills and come galloping towards you.

When the lads turned 3 years old, we started their training.  It was in the winter months and they loved it.

Floyd was predominantly trained to be driven and then lightly backed by BeAnne.  He was always exceptionally relaxed and an easy-going little lad.

Finlay was just the same – hardworking and always cheerful.  His potential owner wanted him ridden so my daughter, Daisy, duly obliged.

As Floyd and Finlay were the best of friends as well as half-brothers, it seemed the obvious choice to train them as a pair as well.  It never does any harm and it gives them an idea of working together.  So, off they went perfectly happily side by side getting on with the job to the best of their ability.

If only they were all that easy to train.  These two happy little Shetland ponies were honest, kind and didn’t have a mean thought in their heads. I do think their herd environment, as they grew up, played an important part in their development.  They always had space to play in and friends about.  They didn’t want rugs and stables – they needed their freedom to grow.

Yesterday I kissed Floss goodbye and she is now well on her way to Oxford University to study Chinese.  Proud Mum doesn’t even begin to go there and I will miss her more than words.  These past few weeks she has been my constant companion and the perfect nurse.  Her empathy, thoughtfulness and kindness are second to none.

For our last walk, we set off, as per usual, with me on my dalek-scooter and Floss bringing up the rear with a reluctant Jack(et Potato).  He likes the idea but hates the actual going.

I was quickly side-lined by some creepy starlings re-enacting the beginnings of one of Hitchcock’s scariest movies – the Birds.  By the way, did you know that film was based on a short story by Daphne du Maurier?

We ignored the threat and off we trundled and Jack started to pick up steam.

I took a few photos as I went.  The sky was looking good and it was nicely quiet on the wind front, which Floss should’ve been grateful for as she was on the boat that night.

On the way home, I did a quick horse check.  There are three, each has four legs, is standing up and looks vaguely alert.  They are fine.  Far away from me, but fine.

I feel very separated from them.  Their care seems to be nothing to do with me, though when I shout for the dogs, 3 horses appear out of nowhere.  Sometimes my horses are better trained than my dogs!

So I am feeling a bit bleak now.  My nursing care has been handed over to Her Maj who has taken up permanent residence under the duvet.

She does come up for air occasionally when she hears my  breakfast – the crunch of Marmite on toast.  Payment for her company is the crusts.  Thems are the rules.