After breakfast (in very dull weather), I couldn’t see the Shetland ponies.  I asked OH, as he was coming up the hill after poo-picking the track, if he’d seen them and he replied “they’re all in the container, all except for Newt. I don’t know what he’s done.”

And OH was right.  The ponies were crammed into one container.  All except Newt and I had no idea what he had done to deserve this ostracisation but I am pretty sure he deserved it.

I never feel sorry for Newt.  Not even today, when he was trying his best to look small and pathetic.

I think it was Waffle who was making the rules and acting as doorman to this particular exclusive container club.

So I barged my way in with my scoopful of TurmerAid for only Silver (to boost his immunity to keep his sarcoids at bay) while Waffle maintained his guard.

I was still not even slightly feeling sorry for Newt.

Dearest Pepper went to talk and comfort Newt.

Only she understands his plight.

She has been hated too.  She understands (photo from last night after being caught chasing hedgehogs at the bottom of the field in the middle of the night!)

Then it was all change on the guard front and Tiddles and Albie took up their posts.

And so it is Newt’s lot to stay outside by himself even though there is a perfectly good container close by that is empty.

I suppose it is a case of “your name’s not down, you’re not coming in!”

So there! – said Tiddles.

I never did find out what Newt had done that was so awful but I can imagine.