Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary
I have pondered for some time my mothers cruelty and ability to think up cunning new ways to embarrass me. But this time she has reached heights that I could not even contemplate . More on that in a moment.
This week has mainly seen us sweating our whatsits off and dying of heat exhaustion. My evil mother made me work in the evenings at the early part of this week and by the time wed finished we both looked like wed fallen in the river. It was not funny. Even the girls are wilting in the heat and no one is interested in playing or even going hacking although there has been a large amount of activity of the tractors of terror lately so perhaps the others have heard about an imminent attack?
On Weds Boss Lady Sarah looked after me as mum was away with work but in the evening Dad came down and produced IT. Apparently mum had been informed that we were all moving fields and that the grass is very lush and had a lot of that stuff on it that makes it grow. Hurrah thought I! Alas I fear my mother has either had a knock on the head or one too many shandies as she has decided that this is bad for me. BAD for me? How is actually getting something to eat instead of my normal meagre rations Bad for me? She apparently posted a picture of me last week playing football (and yes ladies I am that talented) on my face book page. Go look at it and see how thin I am. How pathetic and undernourished I look. Then the woman wants to stop me eating when theres grass available? Even Dad who normally defends mothers insanity apologised as he fitted the torture device. I look like Hannibal Lector. What do they think Im going to do? Eat small children? Ive told them before I couldnt eat a whole one so theyre aright ..
So yesterday Boss Lady Sarah moved me to my new field. OMG. Its GREEN! With GRASS in it! Yum Yum Yum. But no. I had to wear my new thing and thus my grass eating experience was ruined. Its like celery its taking more effort to get any grass than the grass is worth. I demand a campaign. Nice Horse and Hound people please use your magazine, your face book pages, your tweeting thing and inform the world about the cruelty of my mother. She must be stopped. I tried all sorts this morning the big doe eyes that I know melt hearts at a thousand yards, it didnt work , the I hate you evil woman stare, it didnt work, the cuddling whilst trying to rub off said mask thing on her back , it didnt work, the pathetic look how little I can eat demonstration, it didnt work. I am DOOMED. Apparently once I have got the grass down a bit and the goodness has come out of it I can have the thing off and she did say she was sorry about 100 times in the space of a minute but her resolve didnt waver. Apparently she loves me so much that me getting some thing called Lammi doesnt bear thinking about. I tell you what else doesnt bear thinking about? Me dying of starvation .
The other side effect of my new menacing dont leave me alone with small children or I might eat them look is that all hope of pulling has gone. The only pulling that will be happening around here is when her evilness has another go at my mane. I could hear Frilly and Dolly sniggering from two fields away and somehow I dont think theyd both just thought of a funny joke. My life is over. No grass and the girls thinking I starred in the Silence of the Lambs. I could make a remake called the Hush of the Hay or the Stillness of the shoots. My life is over. My mother has turned into a nut job, I cant eat, I cant pull the ladies and I have drool stuck to a big box thing on my nose. If anyone wants me Im the big starving, dejected feather ball in the corner attempting to remove the fire guard off my nose. I hate my life .
I have pondered for some time my mothers cruelty and ability to think up cunning new ways to embarrass me. But this time she has reached heights that I could not even contemplate . More on that in a moment.
This week has mainly seen us sweating our whatsits off and dying of heat exhaustion. My evil mother made me work in the evenings at the early part of this week and by the time wed finished we both looked like wed fallen in the river. It was not funny. Even the girls are wilting in the heat and no one is interested in playing or even going hacking although there has been a large amount of activity of the tractors of terror lately so perhaps the others have heard about an imminent attack?
On Weds Boss Lady Sarah looked after me as mum was away with work but in the evening Dad came down and produced IT. Apparently mum had been informed that we were all moving fields and that the grass is very lush and had a lot of that stuff on it that makes it grow. Hurrah thought I! Alas I fear my mother has either had a knock on the head or one too many shandies as she has decided that this is bad for me. BAD for me? How is actually getting something to eat instead of my normal meagre rations Bad for me? She apparently posted a picture of me last week playing football (and yes ladies I am that talented) on my face book page. Go look at it and see how thin I am. How pathetic and undernourished I look. Then the woman wants to stop me eating when theres grass available? Even Dad who normally defends mothers insanity apologised as he fitted the torture device. I look like Hannibal Lector. What do they think Im going to do? Eat small children? Ive told them before I couldnt eat a whole one so theyre aright ..
So yesterday Boss Lady Sarah moved me to my new field. OMG. Its GREEN! With GRASS in it! Yum Yum Yum. But no. I had to wear my new thing and thus my grass eating experience was ruined. Its like celery its taking more effort to get any grass than the grass is worth. I demand a campaign. Nice Horse and Hound people please use your magazine, your face book pages, your tweeting thing and inform the world about the cruelty of my mother. She must be stopped. I tried all sorts this morning the big doe eyes that I know melt hearts at a thousand yards, it didnt work , the I hate you evil woman stare, it didnt work, the cuddling whilst trying to rub off said mask thing on her back , it didnt work, the pathetic look how little I can eat demonstration, it didnt work. I am DOOMED. Apparently once I have got the grass down a bit and the goodness has come out of it I can have the thing off and she did say she was sorry about 100 times in the space of a minute but her resolve didnt waver. Apparently she loves me so much that me getting some thing called Lammi doesnt bear thinking about. I tell you what else doesnt bear thinking about? Me dying of starvation .
The other side effect of my new menacing dont leave me alone with small children or I might eat them look is that all hope of pulling has gone. The only pulling that will be happening around here is when her evilness has another go at my mane. I could hear Frilly and Dolly sniggering from two fields away and somehow I dont think theyd both just thought of a funny joke. My life is over. No grass and the girls thinking I starred in the Silence of the Lambs. I could make a remake called the Hush of the Hay or the Stillness of the shoots. My life is over. My mother has turned into a nut job, I cant eat, I cant pull the ladies and I have drool stuck to a big box thing on my nose. If anyone wants me Im the big starving, dejected feather ball in the corner attempting to remove the fire guard off my nose. I hate my life .
all i get is a manger load of soaked hay!
i look forward to next weeks diary entry.
