Winter farm-sitting day 6: Tippy's box
Rutherglen Travel Blog› entry 9 of 14 › view all entries
One of the other running jobs we gave ourselves (other than the daily ones, and the smaller odd ones) was the job of making Tippy (one of the dogs) a box to sleep in. Winter here gets down to 0 degrees celcius at night, which, in some countries isn't considered cold at all, but for a dog with a thin coat and not much bedding, a box with some carpet and rugs in it would probably be greatly appreciated.
The first thing I had to do was get over my fear of spiders. The shed full of wood is also full of spiders, and while Ali was doing things with the fish, I went to pick out my floor boards. Getting over spiders? Not going to happen, I decided, after seeing the first one tiptoe away from me. Gross. Despite my fear of spiders and hatred of spiderwebs, I managed to coax myself right into the back of the shed to grab some bits of wood. I came back out into the sunlight and examined my pieces of wood, and decided I didn't like them. I had crawled to the back of the shed for nothing! I ended up hauling some very long planks of wood out from the pile. Yambo, the other dog, wasn't much help when she tried to 'hang on' to the plank of wood as I carried it away.
We spent the rest of the day cutting up the plank and conditioning my new pieces of wood. We left it like that and then went for our ride at 3.30 pm. The days go by so much faster in winter. Before you know it, it's 3.30 pm and there's only 2 hours of sunlight left. It takes about half an hour catch and tack-up the horses. Every day seemed like a rush. I suppose we didn't have to go on our horse rides, but I said I would ride them as often as I could, so we did.
This time I rode Yarraman. He was just as skittish as he was when Ali was riding him. He has an irritating habit of shying at logs and troughs. As you can imagine, there are plenty of these around the farm. I don't know what he's thinking when he sees one. He curves his body so that his bum and head are closest to the trough or log, and eyes it suspiciously until he's satisfied. He looks at them with his nose tucked in, like a professor tucking his chin in to eye something over his glasses. He's a funny horse.