Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
he was depressed, which I thought was just a donkey trait to be honest, and that he needed to
be back amongst his own kind. Yes, and not be rogered repeatedly by a Viking re-enactment
enthusiast either, I suspect. Samuel and I would have preferred to have kept T'Thor and got
rid of Junior instead but it wasn't really an option, T'Thor was by this time a broken man, a
mere shell of a donkey.
'I don't think we should get another companion for Junior,' I said not long after T'Thor had
left, 'he's clearly not that easy to get on with. It's not fair to experiment with another animal
really, is it?'
Ultime, a two-year-old Connemara filly who had been badly mistreated, duly arrived a fort-
night later while I was away working. A sneaky operation and practically a conspiracy by
Natalie and the three boys.
'I couldn't exactly say no, could I? Poor little thing,' Natalie told me over the phone.
'No, not really,' I agreed. 'How is she getting on with Junior?'
'Great! He's only bitten her once.'
The bite turned out to be nothing more sinister than rather aggressive foreplay, because al-
most since the moment she arrived, Ultime and Junior had been 'at it' constantly. She clearly
took a shine to the old reprobate early on, quite blatantly giving him the come-on. Unfortu-
nately for Ultime, this new-found abandon had its consequences and she developed genital
herpes. Well, I mean, if you will go at it like - well, like two horses who haven't had it in a
while - what do you expect? I didn't know animals could get STDs, to be honest; I must have
missed that episode of
All Creatures Great and Small
.
'What's wrong with her, Mr Herriot? I need her to pull t' cart t' market the morrow.'
'She's got chlamydia, Seth. What a hussy.'
Anyway, she did look very sorry for herself.
I tested the last bit of fence and decided to call it a day. Tired, beaten, charred and feeling
like I had the hands of an arthritic ninety-year-old, I'd had enough. It was getting dark any-
way; time to relax on the terrace with a chilled glass of local rosé and get a bit of that elusive
peace and quiet that I keep being promised, a bit of 'me' time, especially after the animal-in-
spired madness of the week we'd just had.
Fat chance.
Thérence, who really should have been called Napoleon (such is his attitude to life), had
hidden my slippers and was now pulling Toby's tail in an aggressive attempt to persuade him
to take him for a ride. Toby looked at me for help, which I was too tired to offer. 'Where can
you go to get a bit of peace around here?' he seemed to be saying to me. No idea, chum, no
idea.
