Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear Diary
Im sorry I am writing to you late: I am writing this soaked in sweat, exhausted, under fed, over worked, underappreciated and generally unloved.
This can be my only conclusion as mother appears to be on a one woman mission to kill me. I have worked EVERY day this week. EVERY day.
Sunday = lunging with those dastardly strap things on.
Monday = ridden in boring boring boring poncy circles and made to carry me own head. Which I feel is bordering on out and out cruelty
Tuesday = ridden in more circles and made to use my bum. Which in unfair when my shoulders are much more effective.
Wednesday = more lunging in those dastardly straps. I went on strike so mother attached two lunge lines and made me work for twice as long. Note to self: mother is a dab hand at lunging with two lunge lines and this is not a fight I appear to be able to win.....
Thursday = JUMPING!! Now that in fairness was great fun! Aunty Sarah helped mum with the poles and things and we had a fine old time leaping over things. Until mum became a spoil sport and started wittering about how I drift right over jumps. Cue lots of cunningness from Aunty Sarah trying to stop me poles and such like to channel me. Piffle! Just meant I have to jump a bit higher and wider thats all and for a machine like me thats no problem. Mum then started to suggest it might be her so despite only being dressed in jeans Aunty Sarah got her hat and got on. Now Aunty Sarah is so much shorter than mum that they had to put a twist in mums stirrups and they were still too long really. Mum says Aunty Sarah looks like a pea on a drum on me (why would a pea try to jump a drum over a fence? Strange legumes.....) but still Aunty S is all yeehaa and no fear. After the first jump mum asked if she thought I was drifting but Aunty Sarah couldnt answer for laughing. Apparently I am the most fun horse shes ever sat on (why thank you!), like a large gymkhana pony (not sure if I should thank you?) and she loves riding me (I AM the man what do you expect?). Apparently I do have a slight tracking problem and pull to the right whats a tracking problem? I thought tracks were the things Billy and I go running down? I can assure you I have no problems with tracking. Tractors yes tracks no. Aunty Sarah did say shed love to take me hunting again and how nice it was to jump something that doesnt bury her at the bottom of the jump. Mum pointed out that Hot Stepper can jump twice the height I can (only because Im not allowed to play at posh boy SJ comps actually mother) and that Im just too gun ho for my own good. Later I went to explain to HS that the only jump youre allowed to bury your mother in is the coffin. Because a) thats what coffins are for and b) they are VERY scary. He didnt seem to have a clue what I was on about so I can only assume he is an XC innocent and not processing of the all round skills that I was born with. Either that or he had chaff in his ears?
Talking of which I understand mother posted pictures of me with my breakfast all over my face on my face book pages. I have to point out this is not because I miss my mouth but more a cunning plan to invite dolly to lick it off over the fence. Im not stupid you know.
Anyway back to my tale of woe. Today mum made me going hacking with the main man Billy and we trotted for MILES! We saw so many big lorries that I think a hit notice has been issued for us because seriously there were LOADS. Then on the way home I was mooching along when all of a sudden my wing man spooked and shot across the road. For a second I bravely walked on but then thought Id best show him support so ran after him. Thats my version of what happened anyway and despite mum suggesting that I hadnt even seen the large plough thing and only spooked because I thought I ought to, I can assure you my version is the truth.
So I am exhausted. Mum has left me with hay, some apples and a new radio station to listen to. I need ideas of how to get out of work tomorrow. I cant do this. The jumping bits are fun so I need more of that but all this lunging and poncing has got to stop. Does anyone out there LIKE lunging? Can you come down to my place and let mum indulge her circles fetish on you instead? Please help. Hope is fading fast as is the strength in my legs. Please save me....... please........
Im sorry I am writing to you late: I am writing this soaked in sweat, exhausted, under fed, over worked, underappreciated and generally unloved.
This can be my only conclusion as mother appears to be on a one woman mission to kill me. I have worked EVERY day this week. EVERY day.
Sunday = lunging with those dastardly strap things on.
Monday = ridden in boring boring boring poncy circles and made to carry me own head. Which I feel is bordering on out and out cruelty
Tuesday = ridden in more circles and made to use my bum. Which in unfair when my shoulders are much more effective.
Wednesday = more lunging in those dastardly straps. I went on strike so mother attached two lunge lines and made me work for twice as long. Note to self: mother is a dab hand at lunging with two lunge lines and this is not a fight I appear to be able to win.....
Thursday = JUMPING!! Now that in fairness was great fun! Aunty Sarah helped mum with the poles and things and we had a fine old time leaping over things. Until mum became a spoil sport and started wittering about how I drift right over jumps. Cue lots of cunningness from Aunty Sarah trying to stop me poles and such like to channel me. Piffle! Just meant I have to jump a bit higher and wider thats all and for a machine like me thats no problem. Mum then started to suggest it might be her so despite only being dressed in jeans Aunty Sarah got her hat and got on. Now Aunty Sarah is so much shorter than mum that they had to put a twist in mums stirrups and they were still too long really. Mum says Aunty Sarah looks like a pea on a drum on me (why would a pea try to jump a drum over a fence? Strange legumes.....) but still Aunty S is all yeehaa and no fear. After the first jump mum asked if she thought I was drifting but Aunty Sarah couldnt answer for laughing. Apparently I am the most fun horse shes ever sat on (why thank you!), like a large gymkhana pony (not sure if I should thank you?) and she loves riding me (I AM the man what do you expect?). Apparently I do have a slight tracking problem and pull to the right whats a tracking problem? I thought tracks were the things Billy and I go running down? I can assure you I have no problems with tracking. Tractors yes tracks no. Aunty Sarah did say shed love to take me hunting again and how nice it was to jump something that doesnt bury her at the bottom of the jump. Mum pointed out that Hot Stepper can jump twice the height I can (only because Im not allowed to play at posh boy SJ comps actually mother) and that Im just too gun ho for my own good. Later I went to explain to HS that the only jump youre allowed to bury your mother in is the coffin. Because a) thats what coffins are for and b) they are VERY scary. He didnt seem to have a clue what I was on about so I can only assume he is an XC innocent and not processing of the all round skills that I was born with. Either that or he had chaff in his ears?
Talking of which I understand mother posted pictures of me with my breakfast all over my face on my face book pages. I have to point out this is not because I miss my mouth but more a cunning plan to invite dolly to lick it off over the fence. Im not stupid you know.
Anyway back to my tale of woe. Today mum made me going hacking with the main man Billy and we trotted for MILES! We saw so many big lorries that I think a hit notice has been issued for us because seriously there were LOADS. Then on the way home I was mooching along when all of a sudden my wing man spooked and shot across the road. For a second I bravely walked on but then thought Id best show him support so ran after him. Thats my version of what happened anyway and despite mum suggesting that I hadnt even seen the large plough thing and only spooked because I thought I ought to, I can assure you my version is the truth.
So I am exhausted. Mum has left me with hay, some apples and a new radio station to listen to. I need ideas of how to get out of work tomorrow. I cant do this. The jumping bits are fun so I need more of that but all this lunging and poncing has got to stop. Does anyone out there LIKE lunging? Can you come down to my place and let mum indulge her circles fetish on you instead? Please help. Hope is fading fast as is the strength in my legs. Please save me....... please........
