not-so-angelic jack

It’s been a long day. Basil the Shetland pony has been causing us problems because of an excess of testosterone. If he was to continue here at Ty Isaf then he needed to be gelded. Today the deed was done. (He’s fine.)

However, on the weekend Basil had outraged Jack by slyly nipping him on the bum. Jack clearly bore a grudge. Today after the vet and nurse left I sluiced down the enclosure where they’d operated on Basil. The ‘outcome’ of the procedure had been set aside by the vet in a plastic bucket for me to dispose of. When I turned around to pick it up, the bucket was empty and Jack was sitting there smacking his lips looking extremely pleased with himself. Clearly for this terrier, revenge is a dish best eaten warm!

UPDATE 11/03/10

I kept a close eye on Basil last night. It was raw and frosty but he had the shelter of a loose-box with access to a small open enclosure. This morning he was bright and alert and stood quietly, un-tethered, while I washed down his legs with warm soapy water. He spent the day grazing in the large paddock and enjoying the sun. I don’t think that anyone looking at him would have known he’d had an operation. He appears to be comfortable and relaxed, appetite unchanged. He greeted everyone who visited him, eager for any tidbits of apple or carrot on offer. Everything seems to be going smoothly.

12 thoughts on “not-so-angelic jack

  1. Response of my teenage daughter:

    “OOOooo. Ah, man. Awwwww. That’s so gross! That’s really gross. That’s so gross I can’t say how gross it is.” Nameless wails. “That’s really gross.”

    Then, after reading about the back-and-forth noises:

    “Oh, that’s cute. I forgive him for being gross. I guess it’s not that gross since my kitty doesn’t have anything down there either. But at least a dog didn’t eat it. At least I hope not. And if one did, that vet is seriously screwed up.”

    • Jack’s personality is a real force. I’ve only just stopped chuckling at his behaviour of the last half hour. I decided to take an evening nap on the sofa. The fire was roaring and I though that twenty minutes of shut-eye would give me a second wind. Jack wandered in and I could sense him standing close by deciding whether to jump up or not. Without opening my eyes I just curled my fingers to signify he could join me. He launched himself and with evident pleasure curled up at my side, his head resting on my stomach. He made a little grunt of happiness and I responded with the same. Jack made another little noise of cosy satisfaction, and again I copied him. Then he made a deep sigh of settling down, and so did I. And so it went on, back and forth. Every time I responded he’d make another noise back. He absolutely has to have the last word! What a funny little chap. We’ve noticed that he often starts yawning if he sees Peter or me yawning first, and then the three of us have yawning competitions.

  2. When I consider that you have really become a countryman, Clive, I will tell you of the day (I was about 19 and equipment and techniques were very primitive) when I assisted at the operation on about 400 lambs. (I was holding.) All I will say now is that the four or five sheepdogs ranging about looked extremely well-fed by nightfall.

    PS This was one of the many reasons why I became a publisher rather than a farmer!

    Nicolas

  3. I had to laugh when Clive brought the bucket back down to show me…. this will be a story that will be re-told for years šŸ™‚ nice one Jack…. less to dispose of!!

  4. Eeee-yew! This may very well border on TMI (too much information!). Nevertheless, I am very proud of Jack for having his revenge in the most dramatic fashion… next to biting them off himself.
    A.

    • Mmmmm! If anyone had told me five years ago, just as Peter and I were preparing to switch our city life for one in the country, that I would one day be taking such matters in my stride, I would have been very, very surprised!

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