Don't know what's been happening round your parts but “Oh my!” the sun has brought out everyone's loving round these parts. Turnip is always your man for a lick if you're after affection, trouble being his licks lead to nips, lead to bites,lead to full on head lock grabs. This bullock is soon to experience this delight but I left the photos here, it just gets ugly. Turnip tries to drag him through our very safe and sturdy garden boundary fence so we'll finish here, all sweetness and light, sunny and springy.

BECAUSE this week belongs to Monty. Not only has Monty mastered the art of hefting heifers over jumps:


He has also become a dad:

Monty is no longer in the dad capacity, but prior to being chopped I gave him the opportunity to have a little fling with Visa. Kevin ( christened with the HOLY WATER of course) is the upshot of this brief liason.

Monty has had a such a big week he is now out on holidays for six months to do some growing and contemplating. He didn't think much of that he wanted to be the all action sportshorse hero, he thinks holidays are dull.

On tuesday I was all set for the third time on the trot to set off the Haras du Pin for their clear round showjumping day with which I'll elaborate on a future occasion, but I thought I'd just pop down with the feeds for Visa and Peggy before I left. So I was taken aback when I arrived at the field to see three brown ponies.Recovering from surprise I felt a pang of guilt that I'd left the poor maiden mare out in the field to deal with it all herself. I had been checking her titties every morning for six weeks and while her boobs had been blossoming on a daily basis she never showed any sign of a waxy nipple or two. Furthermore she never seemed to slow down or look uncomfortable.

Poor little Pearl, for her last few weeks she looks like a balloon about to burst and contents herself with looking unhappily uncomfortable while she potters round the field. Visa was still giving it full throttle up the hill every morning. Probably trying to get some breakfast before fat little Peggy guzzled it all down. Such a little princess you'd never imagine her to be the oat guzzling pig that she is, her breakfast goes down whole, in the dainty mouth, one gulp.

So anyhow when I got my first glimpse of Kevin my gut reaction was that I'd somehow managed to breed myself a Neddy. Now that is a pretty rude remark to make about dear Neddy who afforded me such success but noone could honestly say that Ned was a looker. He had a fabulously athletic figure but he was never a beauty. And here was my foal with the just the same head, so what could he be called but Kevin, it just leapt from my tongue. This is me reassuring Donut that she is more beautiful than Kevin and that he won't take her place."

Day two afforded Kev some considerable improvements, either that, or I'd got used to him. I think in fairness he was probably a bit unwell the first day, he had that hunched back ,starey coat look that a poisoned rat assumes or a freezing bird in the winter. But day two saw him burst forth with new cantankerous vigour, he's had a busy few days of training so he's now perfected how not to lead by digging in his stubborn little heels, how to groom a lion when he's having his bum scratched:

and how to pet a puppy:

Sorry you were too late, the pups have all now been reserved, better luck next time! We easily could have sold six and more probably eight or ten. Disappointed people rang back on a daily basis, checking to see if the people before them in the queue had actually turned up to see them. Forget horses, puppy breeding is the way to go round these parts. It's only legal to have one litter a year before you have to register as breeder and pay tax over here which probably explains the amazing quantity of Jack russell litters with ten or twelve pups that you see advertised. We've only managed a four, twelve and we'd buy a yacht.

I think all of these pups are going to super homes and what a diverse bunch. One is going to a Dutch couple with five dogs, one to an elderly retired couple, one to a lady who has already set up a blog for her pup and one to such a sweet little nerdy couple from Vire that very nearly had me in a fit of a giggles.They were both fortunate enough to have my kind of frizzy hair, the sort that dogsbody also sports. If you've got it you'll know just what a menace it can be, frizzy hair doesn't like hairbrushes they just serve to give you volumised frizz. (That's my excuse for minimum hair care anyhow).,

I digress ,the dogsbody was in need of a haircut, he has the sort of hair that just grows up and out like a little fuzzy helmet. The couple from Vire also sported this very same style and as I came back into the room they were all stood in a line deep in discussion about the fluffy pup.I spluttered and choked and swallowed my mirth, they looked like three of those little plastic lego men with the plastic hair.

You'd be forgiven for thinking I'm some nasty bag for bitching so,but this is possibly the first and probably the last time I have ever had the best haircut of those around me.Let me bask in in my moment of glory- please.

Sorry guys we'd love to have lived with you but we're all gone. You could buy a flashy handmade bed like this one so you can home your own pooch in style though!!

http://wychwellwoodworking.yolasite.com/fancy-french-dog-beds.php