Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary,
Well last week was interesting! As I told you mum had told me she was taking me to a show. Now I strongly suspected that this meant we were going to play with small ponies, small children and jumps that came up to my knees. I was right.
However what mother hadnt realised is that the play area was on grass. Now I LOVE grass. It tastes nice, its nice to lie on, looks pretty and is generally lovely stuff. But mum seems to hate jumping on the stuff. This could, in fairness, have something to do with the fact last time we jumped on grass we had a small disagreement over the line over a fence I went one way, she went the other. Anyhow I disgress.
We got there, aunty Sarah and Dad unloaded me, Mum went off somewhere to be sick, wet her pants or some other such like and I set about eating grass. After much angst, heavy breathing, shaking and generally behaving like a girl mum decided she wasnt going to wuss out and went to pay for our play session. Now I have to say by this time I wasnt too fussed. There were a couple of cute girls to look at, the grass was very nice, the sun was shining and had seen someone walk past with an ice cream so was fairly sure I might convince aunt sarah to buy me one. Whether we jumped or not was immaterial I was having a lovely day out. It was made nicer by the fact fancy pants had been left at home in the dog house so I was being spoilt all by myself. On the way there I had seen a sign for a happy hen farm which said 1000 happy chickens and three ecstatic roosters. Does this mean there are places where you can go and there are 1000 girls to three boys? Wowee! I so want to go there. I did kick as we passed it on the way back to signal to Dad I quite liked the idea but no one seemed to pay any attention.
Anyway mum came back from paying for our play time, tacked me up and took me to the warm up ring. Here she did her best impression of puff the magic dragon, breathing so deeply I though she was having a heart attack. She was all easy boy, good boy to me. Ha! I wasnt the one busy wetting my pants. She reckoned I was snorting and scared. No mum that is my I am a stallion, look at me ladies snort. You crooning steady boy every two minutes makes me look a right plank.
Anyway dad eventually prised mum out of the warm p by pointing out that I would die of exhaustion before we jumped unless she got herself together. So to the accompaniment of mother heavy breathing and lots of the cries of isnt he gorgeous why yes people I know we set off. Now all was fine until I got a bit distracted over fence 3, saw Dad and aunty sarah at the gate and thought thats all I had to do. Mum completely forgot to steer and tell me we werent finished so we over shot the jump a little. Now if she would just tel me where we were going wed be fine but she seems so panicky about my ability to jump that she doesnt do her job. Leave me to do the jumping woman you just point me in the right direction. Fence 5 then was red and black with this scary looking boy and a dog in red and black striped jumpers. I decided that the icecream van looked much more attractive so headed that way instead. Mum suggested my natural mother may not have been married to my father, dug her legs into me and made me jump it. Well if you want to get eaten by knasher on your own head be it mother!
Mother managed to point me at the right jumps for a few more and despite us having a slight argument over the choice of gait between fences we did ok. I fail to see why I cant canter round the jumps if mum is having steerage issues this is not my fault. Nor is it my fault that she ripped the front of her jodphurs and so was showing all the Dads in the crowd her black frilly knickers. She calls ME embarrassing? Im the one that looks like I am taking my special needs mother out for the day. Mind you it did look like she made a few of the old duffers days it was perhaps the first time theyd seen pants in years.
We managed to get round and mum seemed pleased. I just wanted her to change her trousers before anyone else saw her underwear. When aunty sarah tactfully pointed it out she did look v embarrassed but it was a bit late by then. Mothers sometimes should not be let out on their own ..
Anyway back to the happy hen farm place. Does anyone know where there are such places for horses? I really fancy me and 1000 mares. They might kill me but heh Id die happy .
Well last week was interesting! As I told you mum had told me she was taking me to a show. Now I strongly suspected that this meant we were going to play with small ponies, small children and jumps that came up to my knees. I was right.
However what mother hadnt realised is that the play area was on grass. Now I LOVE grass. It tastes nice, its nice to lie on, looks pretty and is generally lovely stuff. But mum seems to hate jumping on the stuff. This could, in fairness, have something to do with the fact last time we jumped on grass we had a small disagreement over the line over a fence I went one way, she went the other. Anyhow I disgress.
We got there, aunty Sarah and Dad unloaded me, Mum went off somewhere to be sick, wet her pants or some other such like and I set about eating grass. After much angst, heavy breathing, shaking and generally behaving like a girl mum decided she wasnt going to wuss out and went to pay for our play session. Now I have to say by this time I wasnt too fussed. There were a couple of cute girls to look at, the grass was very nice, the sun was shining and had seen someone walk past with an ice cream so was fairly sure I might convince aunt sarah to buy me one. Whether we jumped or not was immaterial I was having a lovely day out. It was made nicer by the fact fancy pants had been left at home in the dog house so I was being spoilt all by myself. On the way there I had seen a sign for a happy hen farm which said 1000 happy chickens and three ecstatic roosters. Does this mean there are places where you can go and there are 1000 girls to three boys? Wowee! I so want to go there. I did kick as we passed it on the way back to signal to Dad I quite liked the idea but no one seemed to pay any attention.
Anyway mum came back from paying for our play time, tacked me up and took me to the warm up ring. Here she did her best impression of puff the magic dragon, breathing so deeply I though she was having a heart attack. She was all easy boy, good boy to me. Ha! I wasnt the one busy wetting my pants. She reckoned I was snorting and scared. No mum that is my I am a stallion, look at me ladies snort. You crooning steady boy every two minutes makes me look a right plank.
Anyway dad eventually prised mum out of the warm p by pointing out that I would die of exhaustion before we jumped unless she got herself together. So to the accompaniment of mother heavy breathing and lots of the cries of isnt he gorgeous why yes people I know we set off. Now all was fine until I got a bit distracted over fence 3, saw Dad and aunty sarah at the gate and thought thats all I had to do. Mum completely forgot to steer and tell me we werent finished so we over shot the jump a little. Now if she would just tel me where we were going wed be fine but she seems so panicky about my ability to jump that she doesnt do her job. Leave me to do the jumping woman you just point me in the right direction. Fence 5 then was red and black with this scary looking boy and a dog in red and black striped jumpers. I decided that the icecream van looked much more attractive so headed that way instead. Mum suggested my natural mother may not have been married to my father, dug her legs into me and made me jump it. Well if you want to get eaten by knasher on your own head be it mother!
Mother managed to point me at the right jumps for a few more and despite us having a slight argument over the choice of gait between fences we did ok. I fail to see why I cant canter round the jumps if mum is having steerage issues this is not my fault. Nor is it my fault that she ripped the front of her jodphurs and so was showing all the Dads in the crowd her black frilly knickers. She calls ME embarrassing? Im the one that looks like I am taking my special needs mother out for the day. Mind you it did look like she made a few of the old duffers days it was perhaps the first time theyd seen pants in years.
We managed to get round and mum seemed pleased. I just wanted her to change her trousers before anyone else saw her underwear. When aunty sarah tactfully pointed it out she did look v embarrassed but it was a bit late by then. Mothers sometimes should not be let out on their own ..
Anyway back to the happy hen farm place. Does anyone know where there are such places for horses? I really fancy me and 1000 mares. They might kill me but heh Id die happy .
but I think Gran said that she was camping with Peter for their anniversary last weekend in the lakes. Surely camping on a lake isn't a good idea, but I always thought Peter was odd and it sounds like the sort of thing he'd come up with. 
