The party went with a swing and everyone was at their most delightful and I was very, very pleased. The soda bread in particular was much admired. (Admire my soda bread and I am yours for life.)
I came down to earth with a bit of a bump this morning when the poor little Paint filly suddenly developed a severe case of choke. Choke can manifest itself in many different ways, and this one looked at first like impaction colic, which was pretty alarming. The poor body was wracked with terrible spasms, awful noises issued from deep within, and her eyes were black with pain. We walked her round, pretending outer calm, until the vet arrived, but by that time the tough girl had got rid of the worst herself. It’s her American blood, I expect. She has the frontier spirit.
She was checked over and pronounced on the mend and given a painkiller to ease her woes. All this time, the ruthless red mare was making hay in the set-aside, ignoring her poor friend. When the vet pulled up, the duchess trotted towards us with a questing look, then realised that it was nothing to do with her and buggered off again. Then, to add injury to insult, she very, very slowly and luxuriously ate her own breakfast whilst the poor filly was allowed none. There is a flinty streak in that sweet red head.
After all the drama, and exhausted from entertaining, I now have what Nina in Vile Bodies would call ‘such a pain’ (actually a mild stomach ache) so I’m going to have an old lady rest and be quite ruthless myself and not give you a blog. The main thing is that this lovely person is all right:
Goodness, she gave us a fright. It wrung my heart, seeing her in such distress. But she has gumption, and she rallied. Her sire is a great champion, and she has inherited his fighting spirit.