The Look

Most of the day I have been on the receiving end of “The Look”.

That’s the one – hard-done-by accompanied with resentment which then pairs nicely with holding the paw up and going along on three legs.

I missed Pepper’s little busybodyness while I gave everyone their breakfasts. It felt a bit lonely on my own, if I’m honest.

Later on the morning, I put on her (borrowed) boot so she could go for a short three-legged walk on a lead. As I had things to do like clean the water troughs and refill them, I ended up tying her to the fence post so she could at least watch the world go by.

Pepper is learning that she can put her paw down but she is very hesitant to fully weight-bear. The boot is more for keeping her bandage clean.

Ted is being very smug about all of this…..

….. while Pepper is just fed up.

After tea and antibiotics, I decided Pepper would be much happier off the lead (she is not a fan) and I told her that I trusted her to stay around while I put out haynets and fed the ducks/hens.

This was a good decision.

Watching Pepper, I can see that when she is walking (which is rare), she goes on four legs. But if she runs, then it is three legs with hopping. She is not any slower for this and manages to get around.

And now I spend my day saying “no licking”. Pepper is pretty good, once reminded.

Pepper to the Vet

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It’s been a bit of a day of days to be perfectly honest.

I knew what was in store for Pepper and, once I had fed everyone and got them into their correct fields, we went to the vet.

Pepper was a good girl. She weighed – 7.7kg (so she’s put on a bit, which I wanted after the diagnosis of her tummy troubles) and then popped onto the table for a thorough examination.

And, like I thought, Pepper had cut both front paws. The left side was a small split between the toes but it was nice and clean, and Pepper wasn’t bothered by it.

The right front paw was much worse. Pepper had a deep tear through her big pad so the vet and I discussed options – ie leave it or stitch. In the end I said “if she were your dog, what would you do?” and the reply was “I would stitch her” so that was it. Decision made and Pepper went into the kennel because a) there was another patient waiting and b) the vet needed more time since Pepper had eaten breakfast (I kick myself for not making her nil by mouth today). I left her there (*** sniff ***) but luckily my flute-duet friend was there so she regularly visited Pepper for me and sent me updates.

I spent the rest of the day keeping myself occupied while my every thought was with my wee dug. The phone rang – huzzah – and I went to fetch a hoppity green-bandaged Pepper home.

I have to carry her a lot and she prefers soft ground. She is also housebound for the foreseeable with daily dressings and antibiotics.

The support staff are barely adequate. Just sayin’ and I am looking at dog boots to protect her feet. I think we are in for the long haul.

Not Pepper’s Day

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The dogs and I went for a walk to Clothie – our 5 acre field complete with a derelict croft house that used to be a school.

The grass is so long it make the dogs invisible but they love it, bouncing over everything so they can see where they’re going or aiming for.

And the flowers are glorious and so many of them. They seem extra-good this year.

I walked round and then sat on a windowsill while the dogs galloped about looking for bunnies, etc and eventually gave up to sit close to me.

I had a lovely view with the sea in the distance.

And then, on the way home – which is across the open hill a little bit – I noticed Pepper was lagging behind and licking her front paws.

Upon closer examination, and after following the trail of blood around the kitchen, I discovered she had cut both front paw pads open.

Poor little thing. She was in a state so I grabbed her and put her on the table, examined both paws, got some gauze and rubber gloves and made two makeshift dressings, covering them with a rubber glove and tape to keep the dirt out. I also gave her a painkiller.

So now I am carrying Pepper everywhere and she’s no lightweight. She slept all afternoon, which was good.

And I’ve made an appointment for Pepper to see the vet tomorrow (no appointments today, unfortunately).

Once OH gets home, I might soak and re-bandage Pepper’s paws better. This was a real bodge job as I only had one hand (the other was holding her from jumping off the table). And then there was all the blood to clean up and I’ve just trodden in cat (?) sick and I am feeling sorry for myself too.

But poor, poor Pepperpot.

Go Fivvie!

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This morning Fivla had claimed all rights to the wee shed so I gave her bucket in there too.

And Fivla was not letting anyone else in. Nope. Not for no one. It was Her Shed. End of.

I had already let most of the sheep out into the field but Lambie, ‘Ster and ‘Bert was refusing to go out on the grounds there were too many horses and ponies around the gateway.

Gussie had gone out with the rest but came back when he realised the others weren’t with him. It’s funny how they like their friends around and mind very much when they’re not. He was shouting a lot.

And then something rather odd happened.

I watched on while Kolka and Gussie had a little chat.

Normally Kolka is not really a fan of other types of animal being around.

Maybe she liked the smell of real wool on a real sheep – you know, like when you sniff a clean jersey and know it is made of pure wool. There is a distinct smell.

And Gussie, who is very like Pepper in that he has to make friends with everyone, was very happy with this gentle velvety nose snuffling him.

Meanwhile, Fivla was not budging.

And I secretly thought to myself “Go Fivla. Don’t be shoved around by the others”.

She wouldn’t even let Vitamin inside either, which was unusual.

And then there started to be a queue forming. I sent this photo to Daisy and she texted back “You are on hold to stand in the shed. You are currently number 5 in the queue. Estimated waiting time 2h“. That made me laugh.

Loners

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In every herd or flock, there is always one.

A loner.

With the sheep, it is Lambie. Of course, it’s Lambie. How could it be anyone else?

Possibly not the brightest star in our firmament and, yes, he stood there in his little dining room/pen for a good hour while the gate was open telling himself he had nothing. You can almost hear him singing to himself “nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I’ll go and eat worms”.

I did tell him, repeatedlym…. but nope, nothing.

The lights were on…. yada, yada. Lambie eventually worked it out.

With the old horses and ponies, it is Iacs. He is often found by himself staring into the middle distance looking distinctly vague. He lets out a pathetic neigh of loneliness and Kolka usually draws the short straw and has to go and get him back. She is kind like that. Haakon hides and says nothing.

And, lastly, amongst this lot, you can guess who it is and why it is……

Yup, Newt. Nobody loves Newt.

And we all know why.

(in case you don’t, it is because he is awful to everyone when they’re eating – the bottom whizzes round trying to kick anyone in his way, including me!)

And so Newt is all alone in the world too (despite having great hair this summer).

My Shetland

Everything Shetland

The Look

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Pepper to the Vet

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Not Pepper’s Day

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Go Fivvie!

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Loners

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