Little t got a trip out in the back pack today, not to look for a pair of shitlands that had taken off as fast as their hooves could carry them because yours truly broke a rule of smallholding in the pouring rain yesterday. Trevor the pocket rocket is still confined to barracks for horse bothering out in the wilderness and because having had his knackers cut off as punishment for trying to impregnate every hoofed animal in the county he is supposed to be resting in case he gets excited and busts his stitches. This I knew as I was wandering round in soggy wet clothing cursing the small god of rain drops late yesterday, and as I fed the beast I struggled to get the bolt back to keep the little monster secure. This was in part due to other critters trying to sample the goodies in another bucket I was trying to protect and partly due to tiredness/incompetance/only having one hand free. The kick bolt went over but I knew that was only a semi secure measure, one well placed hoof from his partner Misty and he would be gone. I meant to go back and put the bolt across when I had two hands.
The apprentice smallholder got to exercise his walking skills at the Queens Diamond Jubilee pig roast put on by the local village. Faced with an almost flat expanse of green he was off. Several times. Trying to sample other peoples picnics!
tried drinking out of a can as yours truly lost his beaker
and got to pose as the Queen. He didnt have to but I thought it would be a useful pic to bribe him with in later years.