Daniel thrust his striped face under the green parasol outside his local pub. “Mine’s an arf,” he said, eyeing half a dozen glasses on the table. “This trottin’ about is thirsty work.”

With the Land Rover still out of action, we have been making the most of home comforts. During his trundles round the Dales countryside, Daniel has developed a liking for stopping off at the local hostelries.

He and his brother, Baby Horse, first ventured to The Mason’s Arms at Gargrave during a leisurely ride to the village. The pair parked up next to a sporty silver Audi and while Baby stood oblivious to all around him, Daniel took a keen interest in the drinks. “That red un looks all reet,” he said, reaching hopefully for Jenny’s wine glass.

On Saturday, after another lengthy expedition, Daniel and Baby, with Sophie and Steve, turned up at the pub near our livery yard. Daniel immediately made himself at home, sheltering from a rare burst of sunshine under the parasol.

He had nudged his way past a gleaming 4x4 to join the party, to the unease of the couple at the next table. They may have feared his hogged mane and hairy heels suggested a common, and all too possibly, destructive character.

“I’ll have a Snowball,” squeaked Baby, hovering at the back, his mad amber eyes taking in the mystery of the green parasol. “Yer too young, Bruv. Yer’ll ’ave to ’ave a skwash,” said Daniel, nuzzling hopefully at a row of empty lager glasses.

The hard winter left us longing for warm summer days, but the recent heavy rain and the flies have left all our horses under the weather.

Mrs Horse’s front feet are crumbling, Baby had a messy eye infection while Daniel’s sweet itch continues to rage.

Just as all three needed to be kept in, The Boss began important building work outside their boxes. We feared Mrs H might end up in a concrete overcoat as he cemented right up to her door, leaving it opening about six inches.

Our skinny lurcher was persuaded through the gap, only to decide she was too wide to come back out.

Daniel is awaiting delivery of a new all-in-one fly rug so Jenny decided Baby should inherit his powder blue mask to protect his weeping eyes.

Daniel, who hated his mask, suddenly became proprietorial, suspiciously examining his brother’s new headgear. “Where did yer get tha’ ’at?” he demanded.

The head-shy Baby refuses to walk into his stable wearing his mask. It has to be removed and replaced once he is inside. “Those big ears will catch on the roof,” Baby reasoned.

The Boss tried to ease our troubles. “Don’t worry. It’ll soon be winter,” he said.

Jenny Loweth & Steve Wright