I did what I did that time I got a hornet in my pants (well ok, jim jams) and what any reasonable person would do under the circumstances: I sat and waited for a bit to see if I would swell up with anaphylaxis and die; didn't, so carried on, albeit rather more gingerly than I ordinarily would.
I couldn't resist a bit of weeding in spite of the throbbing; it's really getting to me and I can't walk past them even when doing earlies without relieving a few of them of their livelihood. Q came to help and insisted on standing right next to me, inspecting each and every weed pulled and then delicately pulling at the shoots of grass freed from their midst - albeit momentarily - by my actions. He then stood over me and whiffled at my head until I got the message and gave him his scritchies, during which he reciprocated by whiffling at my feet. Such a sweet boy :)
The meehoos accompanied me around the yard tonight - the little girl tends not to be so adventurous as the others and stays closer to home, but Binky, Ted and little Jimbob (as we may end up calling him) all came running up the yard with me, along with Dora of course, sniffed around in the feed room while I sat and waited to see if I was going to swell up and die, then accompanied me whilst I poo picked the mares' field, leaping about in the long grass and play fighting. I love those Rach Dolittle moments; they are in fact one of my favourite things in the world, being pursued about the homestead by a plethora of furry bodies, all enjoying the companionship of the moment just as much as me. These are truly halcyon days for the cats; having been snipped, wormed and generally MoT'd, they are clearly feeling good and enjoying each others' company. Binky is looking completely lush; gone is the lankiness and the slightly greasy coat, to be replaced with shine and curves. Ted is also doing a good job of charming Sid with his magnanamous ways and sterling parental capabilities. Meanwhile Jimbob and little Rosie (I think that's what we'll end up calling her) are a riot of fun and youth and cuteness. All topped off Jimbob falling asleep on my lap tonight, with his raucous purr and his cute little rabbit feet. Love it.
Things are proceeding apace with the mares and soon enough we may have to have a conversation about personal space; tonight I have discovered that two mares, one smallish woman and a poo bucket all milling about in a 12 x 11' field shelter is just that bit too crowded and something has to give - it ain't gonna be me. In our walking/leading session tonight Xacra again made progress in discovering the art of lifting a foreleg when asked without then walking off, and very nearly completely dropped her guard with some poll scritchies, but just clawed herself back in time. Her demeanour changes a little every day and I'm pretty sure it's accelerating now. Both of them are much less anxious now that they are accustomed to daily contact bearing food and scritchies. It's no wonder they end up very reserved when living in a large band of 100+ mares because it would be very difficult to have any 1:1 time with any one individual under those circumstances, as they are invariably in Portugal. But it's good for us in that it's very rewarding to go through that familiarisation experience with them.
That's two, possibly three awwws, but the extent of the arrggghhh counterbalances them to the nearest micron, which should give a reasonable idea just how much the sodding hand is throbbing. I'm aware that I have the pain threshold of a flea, but Gordon bloody Bennett. The application of vinegar and an anti-histamine tablet has helped somewhat so I may make it through til morning.
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