Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary
This week has mainly seen me being accused of a crime I did not commit. This gross miscarriage of justice has put me in mothers bad books and today she took her revenge .
As you may recall last week I told you about my bravery facing the octopus pump of peril, safely guiding mum and I along the narrow ravine and across the rickety bridge of death. Yeah well what I might not have mentioned is the 5 minutes mum spent forcing me to face the beast and not turn tail and run in the opposite direction ..As a result mum has hurt her back (you see what happens when you dont trust us equines? Bad things happen) and she is holding me responsible. Apparently I am very strong (why yes I know) and so holding me in one place takes a lot of power (which with arms the size of mums shes should have in plentiful supply) and a joint in her upper back has gone pop. That said she did try to ride me on Monday to a LOT of moaning and carrying on.
In the meantime Hot Stepper and I have been moved fields AGAIN. Id like to lodge a complaint. Just because I am calm, sensible and an all round cool dude why do I always have to baby sit the highly strung nut jobs? I dont care in the dude can jump stupid heights or has breeding that you can trace back generations he is one seriously stressy stress head. Oh who canters around screaming his head off the minute I go out of the field remind you of anyone? Life is so unfair.
Yesterday mum came to do me in the morning and I could tell something was wrong. She was a funny colour and moving like she needed to poo pick in her jeans, if you know what Im saying. Apparently shed been to a human version of funky back lady and was in pain. I ate my breakfast mostly ignoring the whimpering but when I glanced up I noticed mum seemed to be stuck to the fork she was leaning on it at a funny angle and breathing funny. Helpful Hovis that I am I decided to assist mum in unlocking herself so lowered my head under the arm holding the fork and then flicked. OMG. You should have heard her scream. It worked though I unlocked her and whilst she was hardly scampering about the field like my little cotton tailed field mates she did at least finish poo picking and walk (limp) off whimpering. I am such a good boy. Alas Im not sure mum saw it that way because last night she unleashed the big guns i.e. Dad. Now since mum took me poncing about at that competition dad has been saying how easy poncing looks and last night set out to prove he could make me ponce as well as mum does. Well for a start dad cant keep the test thing in his head any longer than I can keep a lickit so we kept going wrong. Then mum pointed out his circles were pants and his transitions were poo. By this stage I was wondering if mums back was feeling any better because she was going to have to run pretty quick when dad tried to mow her down. After 45 minutes of poncing in 100 degree heat dad announced hes going to take me poncing to prove he can get a better mark then mm and that mum had to teach him the other poncing routine tonight. Great. I cant ruddy wait ..
Then this morning mum dragged me in from the field subjected me to an hour of tail washing, leg washing, tail pulling and general tarting up (cold water I hasten to add. COLD water). What I had done to deserve this assault I know not. She did moan she was wetter than me and her back was killing her by the time shed finished which did at least amuse me slightly. The evil witch then wormed me (catching me unaware and putting that gopping stuff down my throat), took me back to the field and did in fairness fill up my big field treat ball. She then told me shed found a load of dark horse shampoo from when poof bags lived with us and so had given one to Barney, one to Dolly and one to Frilly as presents from me. Great! The two fittest birds on the yard now think that I either think they need a bath or that I am some form of Fronk the horse hairdresser. Neither of which is good for the image. I seriously need adopting. Someone? Anyone?
This week has mainly seen me being accused of a crime I did not commit. This gross miscarriage of justice has put me in mothers bad books and today she took her revenge .
As you may recall last week I told you about my bravery facing the octopus pump of peril, safely guiding mum and I along the narrow ravine and across the rickety bridge of death. Yeah well what I might not have mentioned is the 5 minutes mum spent forcing me to face the beast and not turn tail and run in the opposite direction ..As a result mum has hurt her back (you see what happens when you dont trust us equines? Bad things happen) and she is holding me responsible. Apparently I am very strong (why yes I know) and so holding me in one place takes a lot of power (which with arms the size of mums shes should have in plentiful supply) and a joint in her upper back has gone pop. That said she did try to ride me on Monday to a LOT of moaning and carrying on.
In the meantime Hot Stepper and I have been moved fields AGAIN. Id like to lodge a complaint. Just because I am calm, sensible and an all round cool dude why do I always have to baby sit the highly strung nut jobs? I dont care in the dude can jump stupid heights or has breeding that you can trace back generations he is one seriously stressy stress head. Oh who canters around screaming his head off the minute I go out of the field remind you of anyone? Life is so unfair.
Yesterday mum came to do me in the morning and I could tell something was wrong. She was a funny colour and moving like she needed to poo pick in her jeans, if you know what Im saying. Apparently shed been to a human version of funky back lady and was in pain. I ate my breakfast mostly ignoring the whimpering but when I glanced up I noticed mum seemed to be stuck to the fork she was leaning on it at a funny angle and breathing funny. Helpful Hovis that I am I decided to assist mum in unlocking herself so lowered my head under the arm holding the fork and then flicked. OMG. You should have heard her scream. It worked though I unlocked her and whilst she was hardly scampering about the field like my little cotton tailed field mates she did at least finish poo picking and walk (limp) off whimpering. I am such a good boy. Alas Im not sure mum saw it that way because last night she unleashed the big guns i.e. Dad. Now since mum took me poncing about at that competition dad has been saying how easy poncing looks and last night set out to prove he could make me ponce as well as mum does. Well for a start dad cant keep the test thing in his head any longer than I can keep a lickit so we kept going wrong. Then mum pointed out his circles were pants and his transitions were poo. By this stage I was wondering if mums back was feeling any better because she was going to have to run pretty quick when dad tried to mow her down. After 45 minutes of poncing in 100 degree heat dad announced hes going to take me poncing to prove he can get a better mark then mm and that mum had to teach him the other poncing routine tonight. Great. I cant ruddy wait ..
Then this morning mum dragged me in from the field subjected me to an hour of tail washing, leg washing, tail pulling and general tarting up (cold water I hasten to add. COLD water). What I had done to deserve this assault I know not. She did moan she was wetter than me and her back was killing her by the time shed finished which did at least amuse me slightly. The evil witch then wormed me (catching me unaware and putting that gopping stuff down my throat), took me back to the field and did in fairness fill up my big field treat ball. She then told me shed found a load of dark horse shampoo from when poof bags lived with us and so had given one to Barney, one to Dolly and one to Frilly as presents from me. Great! The two fittest birds on the yard now think that I either think they need a bath or that I am some form of Fronk the horse hairdresser. Neither of which is good for the image. I seriously need adopting. Someone? Anyone?
