Hovis' Friday Diary

Hovis_and_SidsMum

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Dear diary
According to my mother I should not be addressing you today as the Destroyer but as Sick note as she believes me to be pretending to have hurt myself. I of course refute (refute – hark at me and my expanding vocabulary!) this suggestion but more on that in a moment.
Last week as I told you Hot Stepper and I went stubble racing together and then mum made me work on the Friday on the lunge with those strap things. Well to be honest I wasn’t too keen on the idea and mum suggested I might have pulled my shoulder. I wasn’t going to argue as it meant she gave me Saturday off work and I got to hang out listening to the radio and watching my harem be groomed and ridden. I SO want a gig like my big brother has got – no work and just endless eating and gawping at women!
On Sunday Dad lunged me and just because I was choosing the wrong leg to go on (in whose opinion?) when I go was going fast he agreed with mother that I was obviously trying to tell them something. Yeah – I don’t like running round in circles! So mum phoned nice funky back lady is coming later today. Now either I’m just going to get a nice massage and shes going to say I’m faking it or actually mum is going to be made to feel very guilty for calling me sick note because maybe I have hurt myself. We shall see.
On Monday night mum decided that as funky back lady had suggested I keep moving then we’d go out for a walk. Alone. With LOTS of tractors of terror about. This was never going to end well. First off we’d got halfway done the drive when the boss ladys husband drove towards us at full speed. Very conscious of mothers inability to judge the space required for me to fit through I took matters into my own hands, turned round and in mums words “sodded off” in the other direction. This was stopped by a firm yank from mother accompanied by some questioning of whether I was a lady boy. After some “discussion” – AKA me turning round and mother calling me rude names the boss ladys husband pulled his truck over and turned off the engine. Now satisfied I wasn’t going to get squashed I calmly pootled past and off we went. Less than a minute later mum spotted a tractor so we pulled off the road into a field where I do confess to having slight apoplexy over a large hay bale but in my defence it was hiding behind the hedge and a boy can’t be too careful. We bravely faced the tractor and it ran away past us and we carried on. All was then fine until we got close to the other farm and one of those big mechanical insects with the spikes at the front held up in the air came towards us. It had skewered a large bag of something (bodies perhaps?) and was advancing towards us. Cue me stopping and trying to convince mother that they who run away fight to live another day. Alas mother was in stupid Darwin ignoring mode and made me stand and face it. The sight of my rippling muscle and manly mane blowing in the breeze must have deterred it from the fight as it meekly turned into the farm and went away. Mother pointing out at this point that I was a poof was unfair and unjustified…….. The rest of the “walk” passed without incident with mother moaning about my big manly walk and how if I could only replicate that in the arena. Ha! That’s my “I am not scared of you things of terror” walk – I’m not a performing seal I can’t just do it at the drop of a hat. Sheesh does she know nothing?
Tuesday saw CNSM come and give me cool new shoes. He also brought the youngest member of team Hovis – Junior Cool New Shoes Man - who is very cool and strokes me. He also does a lot less whinging about how big I am compared to his father. Hot Stepper also has new shoes and as usual pranced about like a poof. The bit when he pranced onto my mothers foot on the way back to the field did not go down well I can tell you and she was last seen muttering darkly about horse fur handbags. Yikes!
Weds and last night mum made me go in the school with no cantering and no small circles. The lack of circles made me happy – the lateral work and “flexion” did not. If I wanted to wave my legs about under me, over me or in any other direction I would have joined the ballet school. Do you see me wearing a tutu? Hummm? No I didn’t think so. Anyway I obviously did something right as mum was pleased with me and gave me carrots in my tea – something that has been lacking since she realised how far out the weigh tape thing is and how much I might actually weigh……..
So today I am waiting inside in the dry, listening to the radio, eating hay and waiting for funky back lady. I like funky back lady – she says I am a dude. Why mother does not listen to this highly trained and knowledgeable professionals I know not. Except when they tell her I’m the right weight. Then obviously they are very very wrong…… Laters.
 
I must apologise for my mother spelling today - i have just read that back and quite frankly she's either been at the gin or has turned illiterate overnight.
Shes on a different computer today and I think her fingers and her brain are not in sync.
I am SO embarrassed.
Anyone want to volunteer to be my new secretary as on todays performance i'm thinking of sacking mum?
 
Hovis I'm new to the forum and this is my first read of your diary :)
What a lovely Friday morning treat, looking forward to the next one already Thanks Hovis' Mum :) xx
 
Hovis I'm afraid you've got it all wrong. Tractors and lorries are good, they bring nice bales of haylage for us to munch on.

Its the butterflies and sparrows you need to watch out for!

Love and Carrots

Gerry
 
Dear Hovis,

The Tractors of Terror are actually opportunities to show your Mum what a huge and brave SuperHero you are!
I stand like a gorgeous (though I say so myself!) statue, puff out my chest and stare them down, and Mum thinks I am a real SuperHero - so much she has bought me my own SuperMan outfit (it's a fetching blue Lycra suit!)
My older friend Midas is also really impressed - he hides behind me like a poof until it has gone and the I stride forward, master of all I survey!
Mum gives me special liquorice sweeties for Special Brave SuperHeros then :)

Polos,

SuperBecks the Show Cob
 
Pigeons.

We are all agreed that the true spawn of evil is pigeons. I asked round quickly and it is definatly not tractors, though they are a menace and should be stood up to, it is pigeons. Nasty evil poop dropping fat things jumping out of hedges into your face with their razor sharp beaks and flappy wings *shudders*

Watch out for the pigeons.

*Passes likit for a share*

Beau
 
:D

Tractors of terror aren't so bad...admittedly that one was on the other side of the road :o
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It is these 'things' that scare the bejesus out of me!
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They make my hair stand on end...

Charley xx

 
Don't fear the tractors! They pull HUUGE things with food on them! Yes Food!! One passed by me the other day (could of clipped me on the bum I tell you!) and it was carrying so much food...mmm..I didn't move a muscle, and mum was dead proud. Don't see why though, she's a bit stoopid. I was simply waiting to take a mouthful of hay out the side of it :D
Moose
 
I love reading these each week,always make me lol at some point!!

Healing vibes Hovis and hope you enjoy the back lady!! (ok that sounded a bit weird but you know what I mean!!)
 
Hovis, the worst tractors of terror are the yellow coloured jcb ones, they are driven by right idiots :eek:

worse than that are the small things with wheels and screeming babies in, they make me run for the hills

Sonny x
 
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