Summer

We have well defined seasons in Mallorca. The winters are surprisingly cold with damp that eats into your bones. The spring and autumn are gentle and pleasant - some say we have two springs here as the plants resurge and lambs are born in November. The summer is predictably, insanely hot. The cicadas scream in the pine trees and the world turns brown, it's not easy for animals, especially the UBF.

Now his operations are over and he waits for his new friend to arrive, the UBF spends his days in his little paddock drenched in sweat and pulling over his water buckets. I visit him a lot. I check on his water and refill the trug with buckets of fresh liquid from the deep well. I wash him twice a day to cool him down and to remove the sweat from his coat. He plays with the sponge and enjoys shaking the water all over himself, and me, in a game. He lets me wipe his face with fly spray and plait his thick mane so that more air can get to his neck. He has shade under the fig tree and the shadow which is cast as the sun passes over him. He lies down but quickly jumps up as I approach. He's always happy to see me. For a wash, to receive cool water, a scratch on his withers or a net full of green hay shipped from the mainland.

I don't use a halter, or a rope. I no longer need a hat as I work around him. He sniffs me inquisitively and allows me touch him all over. We gently practice picking up his feet and squirting him with fly spray. He is becoming a joy to be around.

I'm sure he pulls over his buckets to ensure extra visits from me every day.