Tag Archives: Silver

A Special Place in Hell Waiting

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There is a special place in Hell waiting for me.

I did something you should never do.

In fairness, I had no choice.

I cut some of Silver’s mane off.  Ok, it was actually a large chunk.

But in my defence, Silver had a big “witches’ knot” and I couldn’t unravel it no matter how hard I tried so in the end I took the scissors to it telling myself it is only hair that will grow back.  And then I cut it off.

Witches’ knots are surrounded by folklore:-

A witches’ knot (also called a fairy knot or elf lock) in a horse’s mane is a tight, stubborn tangle that forms overnight:-

  • Midnight Rides: Old European legend says that witches, fairies, or elves ride horses through the night and braid or knot the hair to use as stirrups and reins (all I can say is good luck with that!)

  • Bad Luck: Folklore warns that untangling these knots brings bad luck or angers the spirits who chose the horse  (I didn’t untangle, I cut it out so I am probably double-doomed then).

  • Compliment: Some believe a knotted mane means your horse is a favorite of magical creatures (I doubt very much that Silver is a favourite of any magical creature!)

Actually witches’ knots are caused by the unceasing Shetland wind and are a real bore to get out.

I don’t think Silver was very impressed with me – he’s already lost his forelock to a greasy mat that I did manage to tease out.

Anyway, it’s not like anyone is going into the show ring very soon but I hope the others don’t point and laugh.

All Brushed!

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Well that’s everyone brushed for the year.  Today I had help from a friend, which made things much easier.  First I caught Albie and tied him up using the one-size-doesn’t-really-fit-anyone headcollar.  As you can see, he got his nose out but it did the job for the time it was needed.

The rest of the ponies were all eating af the furthest end of the track – of course they were, so we walked round with our grooming tools and set about brushing each pony one at a time.

Next up, Tiddles.  He tried to have a tantrum about me brushing out his forelock and cleaning his ears.  I ignored it and kept going.

I title this – “when your mother brushes your hair”.  Très bouffant, Tiddles.  And note the clean lugs.  To be fair, he did come up and apologise later for his rage.  I kissed him on the nose and said it didn’t matter but remember I will always win.

I can’t really remember what order we brushed the rest of the ponies in but we did the lot and, again, they weren’t really shedding much hair as you can see from the pile once we had finished.

So I think we just brushed out the last of the very thick long winter coat leaving them with a spring coat which will soon fall out.

I did manes and tails too.

Another Mum hair-do.

Newt still resembles a small yak no matter how much brushing.  He actually behaved.

The sun quickly vanished and it soon clouded over and as it is still not very warm, I am not worried about their coats, especially as they are all like that.  Perhaps they know something I don’t like we are not going to have a summer.

Anyway, they all ran off….. giggling.

And Waffle galloped past me to catch up as he had gone the wrong way!

Newt (sigh)

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Over the years, Newt has not endeared himself to anyone in his herd and he only has himself to blame.  He can be very mean spirited, especially in winter, and mostly about food, kicking out at anyone in his firing line.  He may be small but that little ginger bottom is very quick and quite powerful.  He likes to wheel round and give out both barrels so therefore nobody wants to be near him.

I think it is Tiddles who gets most cross with Newt and tries to keep him in his place.  I know, Tiddles, who hasn’t a mean bone in his body but the exception is Newt.  He hates him.

Luckily for Newt, Silver will just about tolerate him and share the haynet.  I guess it’s because he is so much bigger and, if Newt starts acting up, he can swiftly put him in his place.

The others swap around with food and buckets and eventually reach some sort of peace.

Just not with Newt.  If he can’t be nice, he can’t be their friend and he only has himself to blame.  I refuse to feel sorry for Newt as I’ve seen his little bottom in action – like a tank turret firing as it goes round and round, regardless of aim, just making his point.

Carrot Justice

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I’m not very good at injustice and Waffle not having his carrot yesterday was weighing heavily on me all night. I barely slept a wink for the worry.

So this morning after breakfast, I popped down to the sheltered bit of the Shetland ponies’ field to find Waffle and his friends.

I had counted out six carrots so that would be one for Waffle….

And then one for everyone else.

They always ask so nicely.

It was very windy.

(why does Albie look so tiny next to Silver? I always thought he was never that small. Perhaps it’s their positions and therefore deceiving)

    

And then I went back round and gave Waffle an extra carrot to make up for yesterday.

I don’t think anyone noticed as luckily as no one is very good at counting.  So please don’t make me go back down there and “settle up” again.  They’ve all had carrots now and they are all happy, even Waffle.