The whole lot left their field, came up the hill to their feeding buckets to tell me they didn’t feel very well.  Their feet hurt.

So Floss and I spent the morning setting up the shed for the ponies.  Four – Storm, Silver, Waffle and Tiddles in one pen.

And Albie, Newt, Vitamin and Fivla in the other.

Then we left them to get on with their misery while thinking “it’s all your own fault” and drove to town to get the last round hay bale and some salt licks.

We dropped in on the sheep field and had fish and chips as our reward before we drove home again.

En route, a quick nip into the vets for some painkillers too.

And then home to find every water bucket had been tipped up and they were now standing in a sandy swamp.

Flossie and Skippy will be invaluable these next few days.  Poor lass, she came home for a rest!  Ooops.

I am not feeling particularly sorry for any of the ponies.  They brought this upon themselves, refusing to be caught and then getting split up over the flooded stream while spending days stuffing their fat faces.

As far as I am concerned, they can do their time and hopefully the stiffness will pass before it turns into full-blown laminitis.