Last week my husband told me I was a trouper. I think it was meant as a compliment, only I thought it hilarious.
Last night we decided to take Gertrude and Co. to their pen. After Bertha's lot, we thought we had it sussed. A slow perambulate with bucket of goodies, piglets following not far from mothers call! How wrong we could be. Gertrude galloped knowing exactly where she was going with only one little one able to keep up as the rest explored in a little too much depth the new world. At the sound of mother calling they returned to familiar territory, the stable.With Gertrude and 1 safely in the field and without flacking the rest of the piglets were rounded up and boarded towards mother. Again as they were in sight Gertrude called and again they returned to the stable. After several attempts with the same outcome we decided to resort to moving them via trailer. With 4 piglets on board and the rest running aimlessly around the yard. we took this lot up to mum and sister and safely locked them in the pen. We returned for the remainder, loaded them, unloaded them, herded them back with mum and siblings.
I think I can safely say we were troupers... Gertrude was a trouper, her piglets were troupers, I was a trouper but most of all Jane was a trouper.
It wasn't until the quad refused to go another in a inch, me scratching my head in laurel style, that she broke down in hysterics. I had forgot to reposition the jockey thingamajig and had ploughed a gouge until I had come to an abrupt stop and could move no more. Super troupers!