Digging his heels in

We are currently teetering on the edge of a crisis or two.  We have cut the 10 ace field for hay and the weather has been causing Carl heart failure.  So far we have avoided it being rained on despite rain all around at various points and Carl is manically woofling as I type.  Sadly we don't have an acrobat which is what I feel it needs to toss it nice and high - it is still very damp and the ground under it is damp which is not helping.
Crisis number two concerns a show we optimistically entered and are due to attend fairly soon.  We were supposed to be taking four but one young man, who shall be nameless, is flatly refusing to walk on his lead.  He makes no fuss about it but just digs his heels in and remains as still as a statue.  I have tried various halters, short rope, long rope, with a friend, without a friend, in the field, in the run.  I have 'ratchet, ratchet, ratcheted' until I am blue in the face.  I have coaxed and encouraged, stamped my feet, sworn prolifically.  Sam has tried, I have tried - all to no avail.  He is not stressed or worried, no problem with having his halter on, he just will not move!  Sam tried pushing him while I encouraged from the lead end but we just ended up doing a slow wheelbarrow race.  I cannot think of anything else to try once we have played our final card tonight.  Once Carl has woofled and we have had tea he is going to try - up to now he has been too involved with his intimate relationship with the hay to do anything else but tonight he is going to give it a go and if that does not work he will be too embarrassing to take.  He was only going as a companion for Yossarian anyway.

Belinda has had her baby - a boy and completely daft!  He has no idea who his mother is but appears to think it is String.  Belinda has to chase round after him to get him to drink.  I think he is going to be called Westhill Dippy.
Apologies that this is a boringly pictureless blog!