Turns out Roy has an admirer. Diane came to visit him on Sunday (good to see you again!), and she states she has been following the blog to keep up with Roy (not me? Totally hurt…). So from now on I will try to mention Roy when I get around to typing. He has to do something every now and again, aside from just looking good. He can walk. He can trot. Sometimes he goes left or right. Or stops. Spring is coming. Not as quickly as Ol’ Phil predicted, but eventually. Today, for instance, is sleet all day, turning to rain all night. So I guess I have time to clean the office. Oh goody.
Yesterday was photo day. As it was overcast, it was a good day to photograph a grey (even with a cell phone), but horrible for a dark horse. Poor Tony. I don’t think I got a worthwhile shot at all. I washed poor Reggie twice, and he was still slightly orange-tinged, but I ran out of hot water (my apologies to the Great Payer Of The Electric Bill). He really thought bathing in February was a wholly unecessary exercise, and I am not his favorite person anymore. Actually, never was. They all prefer J3, the human peppermint dispenser. Did I mention once I wash a horse, the spring shedding starts in earnest? I am still covered in white hair.
Oh, Robin, Heir to the Stone (aka Stoner) is doing just fine. He lives with four other horses and spends his days eating clover and pushing the other guys around the field. Every time he thinks the clover would be better elsewhere, everybody has to get up and go with him. Or else. They are resigned to his relocation efforts, though, and shuffle along.
So, Enzo and I got a new chain for the chainsaw this morning. Next we are picking up a few blankets I had repaired. And lasty, I will have plenty of time to clean the office for the meeting on Thursday. Oops, on the way back from blankets, I need more food for cats and horses. I can’t believe Roman goes through so much cat food. No wonder those useless critters are obese. Purely decorative, as not one of them has killed a rat. Ever. When the cats first arrived, the rats went into hiding, just in case. Not anymore. It’s entirely possible the rats share supper with those rotten felines. I need to borrow someone’s Jack Russells a couple days a week. Take care of cats and rats! Maybe if the cats ran a bit, they wouldn’t wobble so much and the fluffy one could fit through the cat door again.