Bush eggs: none. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: three-quarters full. Dreams involving Grey Gun: many, varied, and not for family reading.
I went and saw Grey Gun today (I tried not to but I couldn’t really help myself, my resistance was down after so many restless nights). He said he had missed me! He said that he had gone to a cold, windy, noisy paddock right next to a busy death strip, but that he’d had good horsey neighbours, which made it bearable. He said a different female person looked after him and rode him and he enjoyed it, but he didn’t understand why he had been Sent Away.
I explained all I could about our female person and the big chunky white thing on her arm, which meant she couldn’t use it, and said maybe it would have been too hard to look after Grey Gun with it on, and now that it’s off he’s back.
He thought that was a good explanation and feels a lot better about himself. He is looking forward to seeing me again!
Another poem about Grey Gun by Ruby
Grey Gun with all your talents and horsey good looks
Why is it me you love?
Can you not see that ‘us’ causes problems?
We do not fit like a glove.
Is it these challenges that make it so good?
Is that why you need me so?
But what if society says break it all up
Then will you let me go?
Whoa! Where did that come from? We are not back together? Grey Gun hasn’t said he loves me! Honestly, my brain goes off on some very independent journeys sometimes.
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