"Have I told you about that fish I caught?"
The Crofter resorts to herding the rather more compliant Turk.
Mum Crofter directs affairs
Back from the bottom of Donald Four-tractors croft.The coows have moved. Well, moved eventually - after a right old palaver. Tinga, Hyacinth, [stroppy]-CJ, Spartacus and Diogenes all tramped up The Crofter's croft from the bottom enthused by The Crofter's feed bucket - the modern day sheep/cow dog - and pursued at a respectful distance by Dad Crofter. Dad Crofter is not CJ's best buddy it seems so room is given.
In through the little gate they trailed with only to glance into their winter quarters where the lazy Piggies are temporarily housed, onto the 'lawn' where they did a quick dance - just to fed-up the brave crofter. [the only Englishman of the Tolsta Grazings committee AND chairman of the Tolsta shop committee - eh? Have I told you that? ]. With a bit deft waving of buckets, crooks and my frantic waving of arms like a over-excited puffin to let CJ know I was not Dad Crofter, the coows eventually went through into Donald four-tractors croft and immediately espied a nice pile of silage bales. Only, these bales don't belong to The Crofter so, more frantic arm/crook/bucket waving and shouting keep these beasts moving right on down to where they belong - down the bottom of the croft!
Flippin heck, these Shetland Coows are a right stroppy bunch - maybe that's why this lot have been exiled!