Our little herd has been divided. Aunty Tills has been taken from us and put in a tiny field on her own.
I can see her. I can hear her. But I can’t touch her. It’s all rather discombobulating.
The only benefit to this enforced separation is that I’ve got Jack all to myself. This has been nice, but between you and me the honeymoon period might be over…
He’s not a patch on Tills in the grooming department and he’s a bit of a wussy when it comes to rain. I think this is where my ample rear becomes dual purpose; easy on the eyes and an effective weather shield.
Tills was taken away from us because something called Laminitis made her hooves painful. Kat said this was because the Autumn grass was too much and too sweet because the weather is too wet and too warm.
My first reaction was ‘what exactly is the issue here?’ More sweet lush grassy munchies for all; hurrah, in we go!
But, if I’m honest, it didn’t feel quite right to have Springtime grassy munchies in Autumn. And, it certainly wasn’t right that our lovely Tills had to pay such a high price for the pleasure.
Both Jack and I can feel Tilly’s focus changing from pain to impatience at not being with us, so she must be feeling a bit better! I have shouted across the fields that we’ll be reunited soon but I haven’t shared the alarming truth of grassy munchies.
To be honest, I’m still trying to process the fact that my greatest pleasure has caused harm to my greatest friend. Kat said if it makes it easier for me I can blame humans, entirely.
I have. It does.