A Trying Wednesday

Started not too well trying to rouse the boy Thos from slumber. He'd got back from Wales at some ungodly hour the previous night, having been on his happy hols with some school chums after finishing their A-Levels. Not my idea of fun, miles from anywhere, no running water except the stream outside the front door and a 'bunk barn' to stay in.

He'd been tasked with helping me take Ruby for her scan. Not keen! I had to send Gracie in to get him out of bed! He was quite chipper once he'd woken up but as he'd opted for the shorts and white trainers outfit after being told he definitely wouldn't get dirty, I could hardly expect him to help me catch the horses.

Doobie was most keen to be caught. Very not normal. She's usually a complete B**** and will only deign to come in when Zoyzie's been taken away. So I just brought her up and left Zoyzie in the field. That was a mistake! Zoy went completely nuts and started chasing the sheep and threatening to jump over a wire fence so I had to run back and catch her too.

In the end Ruby went into the box like a little lamb so I didn't really need the boy's help at all.

Anyway, after much trekking across muddy fields and horse-wrestling I looked like I'd been at Glastonbury! Mud everywhere. We were 'a bit late' when we got to the stud and there was a MASSIVE queue of boxes backed up onto the road. OMG! How long were we going to have to wait for the scan? After about 10 minutes the queue started to move but no-one seemed to be driving round the back where the sign tells you to park the boxes. Wierd! People were turning their trailers round in the drive and all sorts.

Anyway, when we finally got in and round the back and the horse unloaded and in the queue for a scan (it's like a well-planned military operation), said to one of the grooms, gosh, I thought we'd have to wait a long time with the boxes backed up. Apparently what had happened was some poor soul with a very big posh box had driven down from Scotland that morning, arrived at half eight only to have his air brakes sieze as he was driving into the stud. Bummer! It had only taken the Scania man til 11:45 to fix it.

Anyway, scan-wise the bad news is that Ruby wasn't pregnant any more. The foetus had gone but there were still some residual cells left hence her laid-back-ness. She still thinks she's pregnant.
Well, we're having one last go. We should know by friday whether she's going to come back into season. So fingers crossed!

The embarrassing thing was the vet didn't even need to ask her name. When I said, "oh you've seen so much of her you recognise her" he said "well, she is quite a big girl, isn't she?".

'Course she is, she's Ruby, the biggest horse in the world!

The trials of the rest of the day and attempting to drive up the M1 (who said it had re-opened?) can wait for another day.