The snow has now just about gone from our fields, and so has the 4 hourly waitress service, much to the horror of everyone when we threw them back out into their fields this morning.
We put the oldies’ rugs back on and led them down to their field that hasn’t been grazed for two years. They seemed pleased to be back. Freedom and food.
And yet, when they saw us putting the ducks to bed tonight, they came rushing over and assumed we would arrive with buckets of lovely food. It didn’t happen. Sorry, guys.
We put the Shetland ponies back in their old field, which started life as their winter track and they now have access to the whole place.
After a cursory glance at the grass, they spent their day in their containers grumbling, coming out only to ask for a spot of tea.
Daisy and I thought briefly about giving them some haynets and then decided no, it would set a preference, they are fat, they had a loads of hay yesterday and they can go and look for grazing in their field. So, again, no.
For now, we stand firm on this decision and it’s not easy (though I would’ve secretly given them hay if I was on my own).
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It’s so therapeutic to laugh until tears are in my eyes about another family over the pond dealing with their spoiled animals & standing there trying to reason with their four foot family members who want their own version of catering services. Just last week, the cats went on strike because their new treats, they felt were not as tasty as their old treats. The week before the strike, our dog let us know that she was ‘so over’ her old kibbles:She wanted something new. Heaven forbid if they ever learn to read about their cousins’ antics.