Sue Woodcock: Animal drama with ever-changing cast

I called the knacker and they came and took her straightaway. Then I thought I could help the lambs with a bit of extra milk. I first had to catch them which I have not yet been able to do. I think it was James Herriot who said if your patient can run that fast they probably don't need your help. Apart from that most of my animals seem to be doing quite well.

At last a bit of rain. Not nearly enough, but better than nothing. The greenery and the soil have absorbed it all and there is no run-off at all. My well is almost dry and I am hoping for a few deluges to fill it. At least the ground smells a bit fresher.

The water butts are half-filled so I can at least water the animals. The grass seems lusher and the sheep love it. The bottom of my retting pit is still a nasty mush of black mud. Unfortunately, Froyle who is a mostly white border collie found it, wallowed in it and then optimistically headed for my duvet. I caught her just in time and put her in the back of the car and headed down to the river to wash her off. Having done so, I made her walk until she was dry before letting her anywhere near my bed.

The car is taking a while to fix and the garage are very kindly letting me have a courtesy car, but I cannot expect it all the time. When a good friend offered me an old but serviceable Escort van I got it insured and went over to Harrogate to fetch it. I finally managed to put my bus pass to good use. I seldom need to use the bus and really enjoyed the journey when I could gaze at the scenery.

As we came into the outskirts of Harrogate I looked at the very posh houses. The lady next to me explained they were mostly now nursing or care homes. I had a great time looking in the charity shops and treated myself to a cup of mocha coffee and a delicious sandwich at a small caf before my friend picked me up and we sorted out the car.

He had acquired a small Jack Russell bitch and wondered if it would suit me so it came home with me. She's been through a very hard time and was still in a bit of a sorry state. A more loving and adorable little dog it would be hard to find, desperate for love and attention, incredibly obedient and best of all, not interested in chasing stock or chickens. She was immediately accepted by my three and I was wondering what to call her when a friend came to visit. This friend had already fallen in love with Brillo, who most of my other friends already refer to as "my familiar".

We took the new dog and Brillo for a walk up by the old mines on the moor above my place and I pointed out the horse whins. So the little dog has now been called Whin and has gone home with my friend. She needs house training and if she cannot settle there I will willingly take her back. I had managed to keep her all of three hours.

I thought life was going to be quiet on the dog front but should have known better. They do say be careful what you wish for. Bonnie and Diesel, from the garage, came for a long weekend and Nelson, Brillo's deaf son, is here on a fortnight's break . Suddenly my life was full of energetic terriers, two of whom had to be on leads outside as they wished to massacre stock. I decided to try and walk the energy out of them, so headed off to Grimwith, a good stretch of the legs by any account. The two garage dogs pulled me around the whole way. Once back home they slept for at least two hours before demonstrating that they were ready to go again. Knitting with four terriers on your lap is quite impossible.

Next day we went for the small walk and I met a couple who asked what all the dogs were called. I introduced Fair and Froyle, who adored the chap and assured him I never fed him and then when I introduced Brillo the lady said: "Now I know who you are, I read your column every week. I quite see why you call her Brillo now!"

Once home I managed to write the weekly quiz despite the assistance of terriers rushing off with or chewing pens, books and anything else they could find. The quiz was a busy affair. The place was full and I rushed like a demented rabbit from one end of the building to another repeating the questions, but a fair sum of money was raised for the air ambulance. I got back very late but was pleased to find the dogs had only managed to demolish a kitchen roll and some kindling firewood in my absence.

I actually overslept the next morning, a rare occurrence. I returned the two dogs to the garage and rushed into Skipton to buy a watch. Although it was Bank Holiday the town was open and packed with tourists. Should I pay 8.99 for a new battery and some more for a new strap, or 9.99 for a cheap but adequate new watch? With the new one on my wrist I did a bit of shopping at the market stalls, finding some decent pillows – much needed as mine were old – and some vegetables before returning home to take the remaining four dogs out for a sedate stroll round my field while I checked the stock.

One Jacob ewe had got rigwelted so I got her up on her feet and then found that Edwin the kid had a bad foot so I treated him, much to his disgust.

In the barn, one of the geese is sitting on some eggs and I was firmly warned off as I approached. Call me a wimp, but I know better than to take her on.

Mary, the three-legged collie, now called Misty, belonging to a friend down in the village, came up to visit. She and my friend are deliriously happy together and before she left, the dog found and appropriated a ball that mine had discarded so I let her take it with her. She is becoming a very popular dog and is known by everyone in the village. It is great to see dogs that have been through my hands so well settled. It makes me feel useful but I still miss them when they go. For some reason they always seem to remember me.

CW 5/6/10