Life goes on, minus one.

It was with a sense of foreboding that I opened the stable door this morning at silly o'clock. Birds hadn't even had their early morning stretch and yawn, yet alone thought about mustering for the morning singalong. Misty was stood in the centre of the stable gently nosing a pale brown smudge in the straw. Before I even muttered the involutary "Oh no" I knew our Rainbow had faded.
I had checked her just before midnight, she was asleep, breathing well, and after a few prods stood up and walked around. We were still unsure whether she was eating, Misty was stock still dripping milk, I had with me a mix of horse formula milk, Rainbow had a few lazy slurps and then went to Misty obviously preferring the real thing. With me lying down looking at the tiny pony's under parts I could see Rainbow was millimetres away from the food source, all she had to do was lean forward slightly, stick her tongue out even, so I was pretty sure she must have had some food. Enough anyway. I sat on an upturned bucket and tickled her whithers, she was so warm and fluffy! I wondered about calling the vet. What would I say? I'm worried my foals been asleep? I retired to the cottage and decided not to worry. Its a waste of energy.
So here we were, Misty and me, 5am, looking at a dead foal. Not long gone, perfect in every detail, just devoid the essential life force. Breaking the news to my beautiful and oh so patient wife Tracey was difficult, not nearly as difficult as removing the lifeless foal from its mother. Misty watched carefully and then began to call to her. She has done so all day, and as I type she is under the big sycamore tree still calling.
To stop the "what ifs" we went to the annual smallholders show, and under normal circumstances I would be raving about fresh inspiration, new ideas, another project (cant have too many on the go!) and post pictures of the prize beasts and equally prize characters that populate the world of smallholding. School boy error on my part was to forget to put the battery in the camera, so no photos, especially no photos of an Anglo Nubian Billy Goat who may get to know Geisha later in the summer. This depends on me building an even higher security compound to contain her from ravishing the garden, and as she has just been chased from the helipad where she discovered our secret stash of veg plants, tomato plants and herb garden, it looks unlikely that I will find the motivation to drive her a hundred miles to meet her suitor to create more monsters. But then again I like a challenge.
I did make one startling discovery at the show, goose bacon, which was a taste sensation. Goose breast cured and sliced like bacon, works with duck as well apparently. You need a lot of rashers for a buttie due to the size of goose/duck but it would be worth the effort and we have a pletora of ganders. Fox only takes useful birds. This seems a less time consuming project for yours truly than getting Geisha mated, but for the goose it takes total commitment.