Pesticle Is Completely Insane! ~ Today, She Proved It ....!

  Pat was round, yesterday, with a bale of hay. I couldn't believe my eyes, when I went out there to greet him! I've not seen the man in weeks now, as he's been extremely busy.

   I mean, I've seen him in the distance. Out on the land. Governing JCB's and teams of men. Doing the stuff he finds to do out there. But, I've not actually spoken to him, face to face, for ..... could be pushing a month, I guess?

And, yesterday, having requested a bale, and glimpsed his little red tractor approaching the top gate, I went out there. Fucking Hell!!!!! There he is, hammering down to the pen in a gleaming, brand spanking new, straight off the production line Massey Ferguson!!!

  Anyway, I'll try to get a shot of that, some time. Bright red, of course. Black and gray trimming. Cleanest fucking tractor in Leitrim!

  Meanwhile, he asked why I didn't let the horses out on the paddock? We have the meadow taped off. Paddock's dry enough now. Rosie doesn't really tend to wreck it, like she does the meadow, for some reason. Why not, indeed.

  So, this afternoon, latish, I went down there and opened the small gate for them and out they went. My walking round their side of the stables probably encouraged the donkeys to move ahead a little. I left them to it and slipped back into the compound.

  Obviously, Pesticle's waiting there for me. She greets me. Then, she puts her face through the bolt hole in the gate and, tail wagging ten to the dozen, examines her friends, what ever she sees the horses as, as they inch past, eating the plentiful grass out there.

  I just lean on the gate and enjoy the same sight she has. Rosie and Donks. Moving slowly, one step at a time along the fence.  Ripping and devouring the grass before them.

  Then, I glance at Pesticle  ..... Fucking Dog's doing the exact same thing!!! There's quite a bit of grass there, beside the fence. Crept in under it. And, there's fucking Pesticle, studiously ripping whole fucking mouthfuls and chewing it up!

  This isn't the normal, Dog nibbling a random taste of grass behaviour we may observe a bit of, now and then. This fucking Dog is taking very slow, one foot at a time, steps in the same direction as the horses. Eating about as much fucking grass!!!

  Good seven or eight minutes I must have stood there. Just enjoying watching the horses enjoying themselves. And, that damn Dog was scarfing down the grass on her side all that time! Grazing her side of the fence, as the horses grazed theirs. I swear to god; I've never seen anything like it!

  So, there we have it. Dog's completely fucking raving! Thinks it's a fucking Horse now!

  I've always said; All my Dogs are mad. If they're not, when they come here, they bloody soon will be. le Ding is partial to the occasional nibble on my walls. And checks the hole in the door, religiously, when he enters this room.  

  Evil Little Dog has her, legendary. Commando Creep Crawl. Is also given to sitting, staring at me. And has developed a set of weird vocalisations for the moment I start stirring in my pit.

  Niggy has completely fixated on Pesticle. His life seems to revolve around grooming her. When he's not doing that, he grooms himself, rubbing his throat on various surfaces, and making some noises of his own.

  Pesticle? Innocent, harmless, happiest little Dog. The absolute light of my life. 

  But, fuck me; That impersonation of a horse ....! The Dog's fucking lost it!

Ditch, Donkeys, Diplomacy and Death .....

  Well, thank Fuck that went alright ....! Ditch the diplomatic ~ or maybe just completely, transparently child like in his honesty? Called Pat.

  I've just had my horse pen re concreted, see? And a slab laid outside, for the dung heap. Horse nirvana! Ditch nirvana too! But, more of that in a later post.

  Rosie and Donks are thus having a horses holiday, up on one of Pat's fields. Three fields, actually. Bunked up with his donkeys. Must have been up there a week or two now, I guess?

  What ever. It just occurred to me that I really should go and commune with them. I mean; I look at them, every day. But, that's just sneaking a peak over the hedge, as I walk the Dogs. Just see that Rosie's physically there and fuck off home.

  Today, I went up there alone. Got into the field and kissed Rosie's nose. She's looking fucking fantastic! God, the glow on her! Horse porn!

  Donks is as scruffy as ever. Flea bitten fuck. I saw his feet were 'OK'. But, I'll chip in the next time Pat has the Farrier down. I like their feet kept Right. Not just 'okay'.

  Then, one of Pat's two donkeys approached me. Aagh, jesus! Got a fucking beach towel rolled up, under the skin of both sides of its neck. Aladdin type slippers on. Hooves like upturned skis. Belly on it like a fucking oil drum! Fucked.

  The other one, with the head collar, wouldn't come That close to me. And I'd seen enough already. I had some thoughts. But, these are another mans animals. What's a man to do?

  Came home and couldn't stop thinking about her. The state of her. She'll be following Pony.

  Fuck it. Shit or bust. I rang Pat.

  Told him I'd been up there. His donkey's fucked. He needs to get them both into the shed and feed them straw. Get the Farrier in too. 

  I mentioned how I'd been amazed to see them, earlier, on the meadow above the fields they're now on.  Donkeys? On a Meadow?!? I said how that's like putting kids in a sweet shop.

  Give the man his due. He took it without a flinch. We'll be getting his donk's out of there and up into the little shed. (Where, probably in the dark time, that donkey will lay down and have to be shot)

  He got the first donk to keep Pony company. Then, Pony had to be shot, after he got laminitus. That left Donkey 1 alone. So, we got Donkey 2.  I think it's 2 that's now fucked.

  What ever. Shit will take its inevitable course now. And I'll break that chain. Because, if the other donkey survives? I'll not leave Pat to get her a companion. I'll bring her home.

  FFS. I have the room for her, in the stable. The work I'm having  done will make looking after them a breeze.  Pat can throw me a bale a week, for her up keep. Fuck it.

  As I made a new fat cake, for the birds, today. Filled the peanut basket. Filled the nigger seed feeder. Fed my canaries. Went up to check the horses. Fed my Dogs. Made a note to buy more Dog food. Fox food. Peanuts. Pondered the cost of nigger seed .....

  I often think to myself; One day, I'll die. And a Lot of creatures, round here, won't know what's fucking hit them! 

 

Pat's Buying A Donkey .....

 Met Pat , on the track, the other day. Tells me he's buying a donkey. Seems his female pony died and now the male's alone. Horses hate being lonely.

 I fucking coveted that pony. She was gorgeous! Chestnut fur and a golden mane. She'd never let me near her.

 " Pony ", as I know him? Same fur. But, a redder mane. Good as gold. I gained his trust in no time. We'd hang out and commune together, over the fence. While the female stood back a bit.

But, Pat soon came to rely on me to lead them. He couldn't get near either. I'd just give 'Pony' a minty biscuit, Kiss his nose. And chat to him as I led him absolutely where ever he needed to go. Female pony following him.

 Pat bought these two for his daughter(s), back in the day. I guess, like kids do, they just ..... I dunno. Ponies got 'relegated'. Just shifted from field to field. No good to anyone. Just an obligation.

 I'd have killed to have brought them down here. And what? Gone bankrupt, trying to feed them hay? Had their little feet adding to the destruction of the acre Pat lets me use for my own 'horses'?

  Anyway, she ~ Pat's female pony ~ went to absolute rat shit, virtually over night. This is the way. I was stunned, when I last saw her. It was like a sixteen year old had gone eighty, over night. Now she's dead.

  And, Pat said he's buying Pony a donkey, for company. A female donkey. Because the male one, living alone near him, shouts its fucking head off, all day. Drives Pat mad. Lonely donkey, see?

  And I'm aghast. Just how much money has Pat got?! Female donkey?!  Fuck!!! When I bought Donks, my bare yearling, male donk? He cost me £300. And that was straight down the line what a Male donkey cost ye, then.

  Female Donkey? £1,500!!! Faaaarkk!!!! And Pat's gonna buy one, just for company for Pony?!? Fuck!!! I'm all for fetching Donks and us breeding some donkey. Get a female? Fucking jack pot!

  I say this to Pat. He looks at me, " WTF?! " I look at Him; " What?! "

  And this is where my harshest lesson in the reality of the rotten stench of the decomposing corpse of the long dead Celtic Tiger comes in.

 I bought Donks, £300.00, fair going rate for a male donkey. Yeah. But, that was six years ago. When a female donkey was £1,500.00. 

 Checked the free ad's paper, on line, last night. Female donkey? £100.00!!!  

 I was saying in the pub, today, how I was  going home to slap my worthless donkey around. Tell him what a useless, worthless, expensive hay munching machine he was! Costing me a fortune, just to be there.

And spy on me, in the 'morning', when I came out. Peering through the gap, waiting for his breakfast. Shouting his fucking head off, for his supper, when I came home at night. Chatting to Rosie, while I'm not there.

And, yeah; I admitted, in the taxi back home ..... Any silly cunt ever turned up offering me £1,500 for my Donks? They'd be out of luck. He's My worthless, hairy skin full of shit. He's mad as fuck. And I love him to bits. Mad fucker's Priceless, to me.

Can't wait to see what Pat ends up with. A fresh packet of minty biscuits is on my shopping list. (These are special, made for horses, minty treats, by the way) I just Love these creatures :-)

From The Mouths Of Strangers .....

  Just 'Pimping' my gorgeous " Rosie " here ;-) 

But, it's all true.

 Went into town today. Steve's got some guy in the motor already, second fare. Guy hops out the front and gets into the back when I appear. Thus he's pretty much shut off to my hearing. Me being clinically deaf as a post in my right ear.

 Did my stuff, in town. Called Steve to fetch me back here. This guy's, coincidentally, still in the back seat. No matter.

 So, as we pull up at my place, Rosie and Donks are on the field. Earlier, I imagine, they'd just happened to have been down, out of sight, in the paddock.

  Then I've heard the guy roaring: " Oh Jesus! Look At That!!! That's fucking Beautiful! And will ye Look At the Back on it! Christ! What Condition!!! "

  Even as I'm quietly murmuring that yes, that's my Rosie. My pride and joy, the guy's just fucking beside himself. He even got excited over the condition of Donks. 

 Steve ~ who seriously knows his horse shit ~ was in agreeance. 

 Me? I was all warm and cuddly. Just absorbing, and deeply appreciating, the Respect being bestowed upon my beloved Rosie by guys who've probably forgotten more about horses than I'll ever live to fucking learn.

  

    Best bit is, as they pulled away, so Rosie, recognising that my coming home meant supper time, came galloping down the field. Her gorgeous mane flowing as her feathered feet thundered. She Was Breathtaking!

  I knew they'd both be watching her. And, yeah; My heart filled with love and pride.