Fortunately our calves sold well at the recent market

Her job was to hold on to everything and make sure we did not forget the passports and every other piece of paper necessary to sell livestock.

The market we were taking the calves to was about two hours from home.

Not two hours in some vehicles, but the very steady pace that our Landrover goes meant it was two long, chuggy hours for us. Especially up hills. Coming down hills the smell of the brakes permeated the cab.

Going up hills it was the smell of burning oil. But we got there and were amazed that at just after nine o’clock there was already a long queue of vehicles ready to off load. Not as many as there were fifteen minutes later though.

By then the trailers were backed up to the main road and they were having to double up into the sheep drop off lane.

Last year we had sold calves here at a very good price, but there were not so many entered as there obviously were on this day.

In fact the market was an auctioneer down on the sheep sales and so the suckler calf sales did not get going until early afternoon. They were supposed to start at eleven o’clock. Our calves did not enter the ring until half past three and I dread to think what time the others were sold.

From the catalogue it did not look like many were for sale. But it had closed for entries early in the week and instead of taking calves in by the pen, as we wanted ours to go in, many people were opting to sell them singly.

What a tortuous process.

But fortunately ours sold well. Not for as much as last year it is true, but they came in quietly, were a matched bunch and looked fit.

I had seen a lot of buyers taking note of them when they were in their holding pens and there was a bit of competition when it came to sale time.

So as not to leave her on her own for too long at home, we took Millie our Jack Russell pup with us. She was not impressed with the car park.

Every time Jess and I went back to let her out for a wee she just trembled and refused to relieve herself. Her bladder must have been bursting but no way was she going to give in on alien territory.

We had noticed over the previous few days that Millie was turning into a very trustworthy little dog when it came to being clean in the house.

No puddles to be seen. No little piles of poop. Although not altogether too keen to go out now that it is turning wet and cold.

But then, this lunchtime, I went into the front room at the very end of the farmhouse.

Not used very frequently at all. Mainly John when he goes in for his guns as that is where the gun cabinet is housed.

Mystery of the successful house training solved. Millie has found her very own inside toilet.

She is in disgrace and back on house training routines once more.