The Dexter has landed

For once I was kept awake excited about the prospect of expanding our animal collection at Rock HQ rather than thinking about office politics. I fought the temptation to get up at stupid o'clock as there was no point, it wouldn't make the allotted hour for cow transport arrive any quicker so instead I listened to an idiot on the radio while the hours passed slowly by.
Trixie trailer (everything is named here, don't ask why its just the way thing are) was hitched without er... hitch, well you know what I mean, Rene reversed straight into the towing bracket and once Tracey stopped me from making new holes in Trixie's rear to accommodate the numberplate by showing me how the fancy number plate holder worked we were off.

Now the smallholders we bought Hetty from are very different from us, for a start they are prepared and have whats called experience. Since we last saw them they had put up a steel barn in their yard that would have covered Rock HQ, they did that in their spare time in between working, lambing, entertaining the grandchildren and brokering a peace agreement in the middle east. These were switched on smallholders. So much so that Hetty was already contained within their trailer, all that was required of us was to back up Trixie to their yet to be named mobile pet carrier, lower the ramps and get the contents to swap theirs for ours. Easy. Especially as he reversed Rene into position for me. We did have one comedy moment when Rene locked him out, luckily the window was open so no need for panic or the fourth emergency service and their big yellow van.

By the time we were ready to transfer our new pet bovine passers by might have thought there was a Bengal Tiger about to be moved given the number of gates, ramps and steel hurdles and people in place to prevent said cow doing whats known in the farming world as a runner. Consideration was given as whether she could jump over the six foot trailer door, I mean they can jump cant they, one of her far distant ancestors cleared the moon so hey, its not beyond the realms of possibility and there was a little dog sat watching our antics so better safe than sorry that's what I say.

Anyway after a cuppa and lots of advice from them and thank yous from us we were homeward bound. Back in the real world where bailer twine doubles as gate hinges and traler reversing causes smoke to come out of my ears and Renes clutch we did wonder what we might do if Hetty responded adversely to the lack of high security measures in the her new home. At the point of transfer from Trixie to the Barn all that was between her and 5 million acres of common land was a five bar gate tied with more twine to some chicken wire fence, another gate the other side propped precariously against an old freezer and a curious goat. Luckily for us Hetty spotted the ideal route from Trixie to Barn and followed the dotted line without hesitation straight into her new bedroom. After a quick look around, a good dump and a very pleasing moo she lay down and had a snooze.

I think she is going to fit in very well here. As long as the bailer twine holds.