A Stable Home

 A wren, Troglodytes troglodytes, has made her home in the roof beams of our donkey stable:

Messy, but safe

I can't see how many fledglings she has in there but the cheeping, and the constant in-and-out with insects indicates that there are a few.

A Hungry Donkey Looks at the Thistle*

It's a tough life being a donkey on the Croft. I've put Arran and friends on a diet, and now there are only thistles to eat. It's a delicate process, getting past the prickles...

The straw diet is working well, and I think that the donkeys are beginning to lose weight. They are certainly tucking into their feed.

*With apologies to Hugh MacDiarmid, author of "A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle"

Patrick's no weel

Patrick the junior donkey is not well. Nothing dramatic, but we had the vet in yesterday to take a look at him.

They shut me in...

He'd been seen in the field with a locked rear leg - caused, says the vet, by a ligament locking over the knee.This is 'Locking Stifles' and the vet cured it quickly by making Patrick take a few steps backward.

He is convalescing - luxuriously - in his stable where we are pandering him with apple and carrots. Crofter's son just took him for a short walk, and he's much better. Phew!

Winter becomes Spring

The winter is over. While the astronomic winter carries on for another week to 19th March, it's all over here. Yesterday the thermometer went above 20ºC. The donkeys have a new field to enjoy.

Smokin' Donkeys

Spring has sprung, the grass has riz...

It's the grass, man

  ...and the toads are frolicking in the irrigation tank. These are Midwife Toads, I think, and the male is much smaller than his girlfriend. Toad sex is a long, drawn-out affair:

I have been checking my bees and the signs are good; they have survived the winter - no surprise, it was so mild - and seem in fine feckle for the Spring campaign. The blackthorn is in full flower, as is the rosemary, so there is no shortage of nectar.

Patrick Plods Along

I moved Patrick the foal and his mum Marguerita into a newly-fenced field today. The field is called "Camelot" because it was (King) Artur, a friend, who opened it up for us.

Patrick takes a run

Here is three-day old Patrick. His namesake was not even thinking about crawling at the same age (yes, I remember), but this wee chap can already get up a fine speed. And then at the end Laialuing can't bear to be left out of the action...

The Arrival of Saint Patrick

Today is Saint Patrick's day (and would have been the 81st birthday of my mum, Patricia)...and today at 09:00, wee Patrick was born to Marguerita:

Just arrived...

Mum! I've got so much to tell you!

The Woods go Dung

Turning over a new leaf

 The forest here grows very thick, so we've put the donkeys to work reducing the woods to, er, manure.

The woods go dung

Donkeys are efficient, but ruthless. They will strip the bark off anything small enough, and chew their way through almost everything else.

Barking mad

Arran loves it.

Jogging asses

I put Arran, Laialuing and Marguerita in a new field today. They loved it:

Doncklicker

My sister taught me to clicker train our donkeys. It's the most wonderful, painless, productive form of animal training that I know.

Today I achieved a milestone, getting Laialuing our 7-month donkey to accept a halter:

Halter? There's no stopping us now.

Furry new

She's just a few months old, she still does not have a name, and she's just come to live with us.

Here she is, with her mum Margarita, tucking into a load of fresh hay after walking down here from Can Peu Alt. Jordi and his sons brought the two donkeys over here this morning.

Hay, I've arrived

For Arran, our resident teenager, it was a bit of a shock. He said hello...

I nose it's a new donkey...but two?

 

Four by Four

It's still the best form of transport on our steep slopes. Rugged 4x4 all-slopes traction, and totally carbon-free:

Work, work, work. When will he give me a rest?

Arran and I went up the hill to prune the olive trees. I prune a bit, he eats a bit, I prune some more, he eats some more. It's like having a mobile composting machine, managed by a slightly grumpy farmer...