If I ever needed the proof that Blog is actually read & not just written by me for my own entertainment then it came this morning in the guise of a 05.30am text along the lines of 'Why no Blog - we are worried' No names, no pack drill.
Just remember guys, if it's 1830 there, its 11 hours ahead here. Nuff said.
Ed - In case you want to know what time it is in Orcland
Along those lines, a 03.30 phone call woke the entire household about a wk ago, if it was any of you, just don't own up to it.
I have loads to tell so have run upstairs & baggsied the pooter.
Yesterday was the best day I have had since arriving.
The weather was warm & sunny all day with only a slight breeze blowing.
I did neddy stuff all morning, lunged the ponies, rode Fliss & did 1 tiny x-country jump.
Cocky, Don't know if you got my text but I did my 1st ever flying-change ! It felt great.
To be fair, Fliss did it but I gave her the aids. Hurrah for me !
At 12 I usually get 4 hrs 'me-time' but I saw the guys were busy with the ooh-cows so I went & hung around to see if I could help out.
They were sorting thru 190 steers.
The ones with double tags in their ears had to be weighed to see how much weight they were putting on so they know how much $ they will fetch.
The owner of the cows, Richard was here & he asked me to note down the number in the cow's ear & then to record how much they weighed.
A large horse weighs about 500kgs, these 2 yr old cattle were each about 320kgs.
Mal & Mike sifted thru the herd sorting out the double-taggers who were then driven towards the weigh-bridge thru a system of gates similar to the ones at the Post Office or Alton Towers.
What was very nice to see was that although they both worked with long, white metal sticks they were really only using them to indicate to the cows where to go. Occassionally a particularly truculent one was given a prod.
After being weighed Richard asked me to calculate the average weight of the herd so tha he could work-out their weight-gain.
Turns out with all the recent rain they were putting on a kg a day. Mal & Mike explained to Richard that I had brought the rain so he was very pleased with me.
Once we had finished weighing them all we drove them to their respective pastures.
Mike asked me to move along behind a herd of about 30 or so & make some noise.
Armed with a large stick (only a wooden 1, I can't have a white metal 1 yet) I whooped & hollered & felt like a real cowboy ('I made a calf') Once we were in the pasture some of them broke away & your correspondent is proud to report that she ran at them shouting such things as 'Get up there' to shoo them thru the fence.
Mike asked me if I had worked with stock before as I was very calm with them ?
I asked if being chased by a herd of Charolais counted ?
I'm sorry if that makes for a really dull read for the townies amongst you but I have to say that being outdoors, working with cows & being useful for about 4 hours was very, very fulfilling.
I told Mal & Mike to give me a shout if they ever need a hand between 12 & 4 again.
Unfortunately, helping with the cows put me in just the wrong spot when the vet turned up to put Coco down.
He asked for a hand & I could do nothing but agree to help.
He, Mal & I drove up to the far pasture where he was & I put a headcollar on him & chatted to him whilst the vet loaded his syringe.
I was pleasantly surprised to see the vet inject a large dose of local all around the site where he intended to find the jugular.
He then injected a large amount of pentobarbitone into the vein, drawng back several times to make sure he was still in the right place.
He explained that the dose he had given Coco (ickle, old pony) would be enough to finish off a big, strong horse.
He warned me to be ready to jump clear in case he fell on me & then we stood & waited. And waited. And waited.
I expected the effect to be instantaneous, the way it is with dogs & cats and apparently so did the vet.
We watched Coco for a full 5 minutes & despite looking sleepy he was still standing.
The vet nudged him in the ribs to see if he would lie-down.
Coco looked at him as much to say 'Who you shoving ?'
Eventually the vet decided, after examining the drug's sell-by date, to give him some more.
This time the effect was as expected.
He keeled over & very slowly went to sleep.
Although it was very peaceful I have to say I am glad I knew what to expect from my time as a vet nurse.
I should imagine it could be very distressing if you were witnessing it for the 1st time.
I apologise if any of you had to skip thru that paragraph but I want to share all my news good & bad.
The vet didn't laugh at me for cuddling him as he was being injected & even took the time to say to me
'If you have to go can you think of a more beautiful place to die than this ?'
He was right.
The sun was just going down, the sky was rose-pink & he was breathing his last in a beautiful green pasture overlooking the river.
Sure beats starving thru the Winter.
What was quite touching was that as we drove away I looked over my shoulder & noticed the other 3 horses nuzzling at the body ... makes you think.
Plans were made to remove the body in the morning (the kids were due in from school) & to cremate it.
I promised myself that I would try & be far away in the morning.
I didn't want to see the body being carried in the scoop of a digger.
I got busy with the things I always do last thing before dinner.
This is the part of the day I think I like best.
That feeling of settling down, checking everything & bringing the day to a close is something I never got in my other job.
I fed the pigs (including preparing their peas for the next day), I fed the dogs, I fed hay to the ponies & then I fed all the other horses.
This is possibly the most entertaining sight.
As you approach the paddock with buckets in hand, they stop what they are doing, look around at each other to work out who's where & then set off to gallop the length of 2 football pitches to reach you.
It never fails to make me smile.
There is a distinct pecking order which although it sounds harsh makes for a more peaceful herd.
Jess (my neddy) is top dog (so to speak) She gos to her bucket 1st
Fliss is 2nd
Millie is 3rd
They are the only ones who get fed.
The others are just on grass at the moment & there is plenty of it.
The others mill about watching the ones with buckets looking for their chance.
(Can you imagine us doing this at home Linda ? we would end up feeding everyone, even if it was just a handful of chaff)
When Jess has finished hers she shoves Fliss off her bucket.
Fliss pushes Millie off hers.
Millie goes to harass Kestrel, Fergus & Shrinky who by now are squabbling over the remnants in Jess's bucket.
The only one who doesnt get a look-in is Winky, a very old grey pony who doesn't have the energy to squabble with the rest of them.
(I sometimes take him an apple - I can't help it)
After a very tasty dinner of nachos (eating beef at least twice a week here) I went for an early night & finished my Bill Bryson.
As I wrote in my journal I felt tired, reasonably warm & very happy & content.
A good day's work.
Today dawned just as beautiful as yesterday.
I lunged the ponies, fixed a fence (very satisfying) & constructed a dressage arena.
That probably sounds much more impressive than it should.
In essence, I marked out a rectangle measuring 20m by 40m, roped it off & put all the letters in the right place so that we can practice our dressage.
Wouldnt you just know I was grooming one of the ponies when I heard the rumble of the tractor.
I turned around to look without thinking & saw poor old Coco being trundled along in the bucket.
It was like when you pass a car crash & you can't help but look - I was transfixed.
Chris shouted to me 'This is what happens to bad nannies'
I told him it would be a blessed relief.
I didn't even escape the funeral pyre.
Mal told me to jump in the truck so I could come & look.
I asked him if it looked gory & he said of course not.
I didn't want to hurt his feelings as he loves showing me things - so off I went to see.
He was right, the shape was indistinguishable but all day wafts of smoke have been blowing around the farm.
They expect the fire to burn for a couple of days.
On a brighter note - I have agreed to go hunting on Jess tomorrow.
It would be fair to say I am bricking it.
Sorry - but there's no other way to put it.
The hunt is meeting here, in the paddock in front of the house & as Trish said
'There's no more convenient place for you to start from ...'
My protests of 'But Jess needs shoeing & I don't have a jacket' were met with helpful offers of arranging the farrier to come today & a hunting jacket borrowed from a friend.
Bugger.
Just to make things more exciting Zoe & Innes are going to come with me.
Doubtless, they will be clearing everything with youthfull skill & bravery whilst yours truly here will be soiling her underwear.
It didn't help one iota when Zoe said "Don't worry, Jess jumps everything ... even full wire'
Wire is deemed too dangerous to jump in England (are you wetting yourself Cocky ?)
I didn't even bother to ask if they wear back-protectors whilst hunting.
On the upside I tried on my gear, fawn jodphurs, a crips, white shirt, full-length black boots & the borrowed jacket which is a very snazzy, beautifully tailored navy blue number with a faint pinstripe.
All modesty aside, I didn't recognise the smartly dressed equestrian looking back at me from the mirror.
At least I will be beautifully dressed when I am churned to a muddy pulp.
No comments:
Post a Comment