Doc At Winter Camp

He has now been there a week and is having a thoroughly good time. He loves the activity of a large barn and, given his sociable nature, was greeted warmly by old friends and is making lots of new ones, human and other. The first day in the large indoor riding room he put on a display of leaping and air boxing when the Woman put him on the spinning rope. She said he looked like an orange salmon trying to spawn. Since then he has settled down and is hauling Herself around in there almost daily.

Meanwhile, Molly remains peevish because she knows exactly where Doc is and would like to be there herself. She spends her days commandeering whatever hay pile Jack and I are are working on. She has grown a goat-like beard this year and, coupled with her habit of grunting, she is looking and sounding like a Sasquatch pony. We are all dreading shedding season, when it finally comes.

Jack is struggling with the cold this year, in spite of his heavy winter blanket. The woman has plans to install a fleece lining in it. Given her seamstressing skills, which are nil, and her complete lack of fine motor skills, we can assume she will do as usual and sew it to herself.

Sally is almost permanently in her heated bed, and owing to virtually no exercise, she has grown to fill the whole thing. Getting in and out requires much concentration on her part or the whole bed becomes wedged on her hips. She is a simple soul and requires only sustenance and regular patting to remain perfectly happy. Molly grooms her daily so her fur is arranged in spikes all down her back.

And I? I persevere. That's all I can say. My mind is in warmer climes but my body remains resolutely stuck in the snow drifts.