Thursday 9 February 2012

Mike took our oldest  dog, Sandy, to the Vet on Friday.   We thought she was going downhill a bit but wanted to make sure that it was just old age (she is eighteen in March) or whether there was some underlying reason.   The young vet who saw her suggested that maybe they could take out some of her teeth in case they were making it difficult for her to eat!!  Yeah Right at her age!!   Anyway we had a blood test and urine sample done and finally managed to speak to someone late on Tuesday for the results, which were basically that her kidneys are starting to fail but most likely to be because of her age.  I really hate the big vet practices that we have these days.   It is so busy and impersonal.   I must admit we were spoiled at our old place because although it was a big practice they had a branch in our village which was usually manned by the same Vet.   The lovely Simon, now retired, who had the charm and good looks of George Clooney and was very knowledgeable and practical too!!

The farm vets are usually great and I suppose because they are dealing with bigger animals have to be more interactive and take the time needed.

We have had the Building Regulations Conditional Approval which means we can go ahead with the barn conversion subject to all the regular inspections, reports etc: which have to be done.   Danny, the amazing digger driver, came and dug out an elegant sweeping drive to the new barn which will enable the next crew to lay the concrete so that we can start moving in and vacate the old barn.  Trust me it looks better in real life.

I have resumed halter training the weanlings after a break due to the poor weather and as I had been a bit worried that they were not devouring the haylage and the grass looks very poor, I was pleasantly surprised to find that their condition is actually better than the last time I checked.   Even the youngest who don't seem to join in at the feeding trough seem to be nicely covered.  I love halter training them and feeling that lovely soft silky fleece, which is, after all, what alpacas are all about.

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