I drove into town today with my two daughters.  Town is Lerwick and 45 minutes away.  We try to go once a week and to get all our messages while we are there.  I left OH at home with the dogs.  He hoovered apparently.  I could tell this when I returned home as the house looked different!

The best bit about Lerwick is lunch – fish and chips and a good view.  I always want to find some seals to watch and they are usually sunbathing in their regular haunts.

And, yes, I always take my camera just in case.   All around Lerwick, there are good seal-watching car parks to eat lunch at. It should be a national sport, I think or mandatory if you have a stressful job to spend an hour watching seals while you eat chips in your car.

The seals don’t even care about the traffic.  They occasionally lift their heads up for a noisy bus but little phases them.

So we did our messages.  We belted round town trying to remember everything.   I find town fairly stressful and very exhausting. I am still not back to normal by any means.  Just being clean and tidy nearly finishes me off – like anyone notices or cares, though.

So back home. En route we stopped off at the vet for Jack’s happy pills (Fortekor) and I bought 3 bally balls with an irritating squeak for BeAnne.  She is very happy.  They are spread around the sitting room and she bounces about collecting them up, killing them and hiding them again for herself.  Hours of entertainment.  She is exhausted now.  Jack, who could in his youth de-squeak a toy in seconds, sadly doesn’t hear or see these bright yellow balls at all.

Tomorrow BeAnne and I go back to our walking 2 miles everyday to look at Foula.  It has to be the same route as it is nearly flat.  Hills make me trip.  We listen to Sherlock Holmes and it is very restful in its way.  Almost as good as the seals and the chips.

(sorry it is such a boring post – run out of steam and got a headache from town)

Everyone came over yesterday and rode the horses in the indoor school.  We also had a BBQ in the drizzle well cooked by Ozmerelda the Ozpig and her owner, Jim.

I think there were 11 of us – mostly horse enthusiasts.  We used all the Icelandic horses, except Taktur who is still on holiday.  It was great to see Daisy flying around…..

She also rode Haakon for me.  He is going very well for her and it is lovely to watch them.  I can ride again in August and I am counting the days.

Amber rode Meester Bimble, or Iacs.

Daisy set a good example.

Arwen was doing her gymnastic practice on Haakon.  He was mostly bemused but cooperated.

Then the leaders all had a shot.  Fi rode Fakur first …..

Then Jo played aeroplanes on Fakur to prove he could do this (her reasoning, not mine), while Fi rode Hetja who probably thought we were all bonkers by now!

The main thing is that no one took themselves very seriously and that is the whole point of riding on a drizzly Sunday afternoon, while someone stands outside wearing shorts with a BBQ!  A great day.  Thanks everyone!

I haven’t written much about Wussums recently.  Well, he has settled in well and today surprised me with his new favoured spot.  I came downstairs to find this……

I have no idea how he got there and now none of us can get any milk for our morning coffe/tea.

He knows this and he doesn’t care.  In fact he wants you to come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.

Your problems are not his problems.  They are your problems and your responsibility.  He doesn’t think he is stopping you from opening the fridge (though he would probably get a horrid shock if anyone did!)

I love the way his, err, sides (that’s the word) flop over the edge of the fridge.  It is not a big space and certainly not one we ever considered as a potential cat bed.

I could move him if I wanted to but I didn’t so he stayed.  Not because I was intimidated – I want you to know that.

Wussums condescendingly watching the world go by, perfectly balanced.

He was available for brief chats but does have a tendancy for wandering paws at passing heads!

But the best bit was his Nemesis, BeAnne, didn’t know where he was.  WW3 is not over.

And so Wuss sat for most of the morning and, funnily enough, we all had black coffee or tea.

Should you want milk with that drink, then you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

I have written the blog at least twice today.  I don’t know what to write.  I miss Celt.  I applied for a Whirrier (whippet/terrier) I found on a UK website and they said No because of the R word – Rabbits. I wrote that there are plenty of rabbits to chase stupidly thinking this is what every dog would love. Apparently not.  This makes you into a “hunting” home which is bad.  But there are bunnies everywhere.  It would be more wrong to stop the dogs.  Cruel, even.

Also I said I do not vaccinate and we have rats in Shetland apparently. Yes, we have the odd rat – about one every 10 years – but not like rats in mainland UK.  I am gutted.  This was my perfect dog. I spend the wee small hours looking for the one I want and I thought I had found him.

Personally I do not vaccinate because my dogs do not go anywhere, they do not meet other dogs apart from those that visit and have never ever caught anything. The only time I vaccinated BeAnne for her potential Toto audition, she was horribly ill and miserable and it did her immune system no good at all so I decided her stage debut could wait.

They asked for references and I sent them two – one from my vet who knows us well for all the right reasons.  He walks his dogs here.  But apparently this is not enough.

Dogs want more than this….  apparently.

I realise I probably wrote the wrong things in my enthusiasm on the application and and with that we are out, no questions, no listening, no discussion.  I so wanted to give this little dog the perfect home.  He would’ve been happy with 50 fenced acres to play in and access to so much, much more.

If it is not meant to be, then it isn’t.  Even OH phoned to try and talk to them but *** sigh ***.

I am gutted.  I miss Celt more than words can say.  I see his shadow everywhere. I still wait for him.  He left us not because I did not vaccinate him, not because he ran after rabbits, but because he was 16yo and his body gave out, not his heart.  Why do they have to be so judgemental?

I may have had a drink.

The other day, Jo rode Hetja. She tacked her up and got on. With that Hetja reared.  So why?  She has never done this before but to be fair, we haven’t ridden her much.  Jo had used a better fitting, but longer, saddle on her when she rode her that day and Hetja had reacted. Hmmm….

Is Hetja cold-backed.  What precisely is the definition of cold-backed anyway?  Did the saddle hurt her?  What was the reason?

This is Hetja’s saddle that Jo tried with her?  It rests quite far back but is a good fit.  This is the one she reared in.

So then we looked at her body language while we moved the saddle back…. ooh, she didn’t like that.

We used bribery (bread) as a good way of communicating and also decided to take Hetja over to mine to a) shoe her again and b) try on Taktur/Klængur´s new-to-me 16.5″ Frelsi Saddle which is shorter in the back to see her reaction.

So, today, in the pouring rain, Jo and Fiona brought Hetja over to shoe and to play saddles again.  Poor love was shaking from the rain so they put on Taktur’s rug (he will so love that it smells of girls now) and she heated up and steamed!

Then for trying on the next saddle which seemed a much better fit and shorter in the back.  That saddle is superb – it fits Taktur now, Klængur too and now Hetja.

We deliberated about whether she is in season. Jo popped round the back to find out…..

This is her “I don’t think so” face! (she will kill me for this!)

So on she got to ride her (look – Jo’s happy face!)

Hetja was 100% in every way and fine (Hetja’s happy face too)

So we are thinking it is a too long saddle on her and she doesn’t like it, which is fair enough – we all have our things.  Then we threw Daisy on to see what happened – nothing. Hetja was a dream.

So now I am looking for a medium width 16.5″ Frelsi Black Country saddle, preferably 2nd hand for my beautiful Hetja.  She must be happy, always.  Good fitting saddles are essential.

And those horses have the patience of a saint, if you ask me!