Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear Diary
I am doomed. Totally and utterly doomed. Why? Because of one very small, very strong, very bossy Boss Lady who up until this point Id thought was a genuine lovely person. I was wrong......
So this week started off well. Mum worked me hard over the weekend, told me she loved me lots and then left again to earn the money that keeps me in the life style to which I have become accustomed (her words not mine). So Boss Lady Sarah took over looking after me cue big dinners, big breakfasts, great beds and no work. All was good. Hot Stepper and I played I am a stallion2 over our little fence, ate grass and generally chilled out. Until yesterday.... Do you remember me telling you that I thought Id overheard mum and the Boss Lady discussing the Boss Lady riding me whilst mum is way. Turns out theres nothing wrong with my ears....
Yesterday I was subjected to a drilling the likes of which Evil Army Man could only dream of achieving. Stretching down, working into the bridle, in an outline, totally straight, yielding in and out, correct canter strike off the woman is a monster! I hurt in places I didnt know I had muscles. I am not built to ponce about like some well bred dressage fairy, I do not harbour any desire to strictly come dressage stars, I am a MAN not a girl. What is wrong with these people? Worst still when mum got to the yard this morning the Boss Lady told mum I had been a very good boy so mum and her agreed shed work me EVERY week! WHAT?!! Surely this is cruelty in the truest form? Someone help me please...
So when mum announced this morning that despite it raining heavily we were still going out I was faced with a choice. To behave so she might take pity and retract her decision to punish me with Mrs Iron legs or to play up and have her think it was because the Boss Lady had upset me? After a brief conference with my wing men Billy and hot Stepper and taking on board some advice from old wise Tom I decided that if I didnt behave she might punish me by asking the Boss lady to ride me even more so I went for the behave option. And boy did I pick a morning to behave.....
We had barely turned out of the yard when a large metal bird of prey swooped low and very very fast over our heads. It was one noisy individual I can tell you I heard mum and Aunty C say it was a fighter but how they formed this opinion I know not. We then proceeded out of the yard and WHOA! Lots and lots of clouds on legs in a field. I cautiously walked past, eyes peeled for any signs of rouge elements about to strike but Billy and Is manly presence obviously made them think again.
Safely past the clouds on legs we trotted on in the pouring rain, ears pricked like the dudes we are. Then we heard it this noise getting louder and louder but despite Aunty C and mum turning round in the saddle and trying to see where it was coming from we couldnt figure it out. Then low over the tree tops this large metal wasp appeared, heading straight for us. Even the normally unflappable Aunty C started saying rude words and I sensed a general air of panic descend over the pair of humans. At the last minute the wasp veered slightly left and went around us. Mum and Aunty C started patting Billy and I and cuddling us. Quite why I have NO idea. Neither of us had moved a muscle but there didnt seem to be any need to?
So on we went, trotting along the roads, across the fields and having a good canter where it wasnt too slippy. We rounded the corner in the village and were greeted by a row of faces peering at us through the hedge and a loud MOO! noise. Again aunty C and mum both patted Billy and I and told us it was ok. Well quite clearly we were bigger than this insolent little children and even when they ran up and down the fence mooing some more at us we turned our manly noses up at them and walked calmly past. I can be the bigger man when I know Im not the one ending up as a hamburger.............
On we went in the rain and wind, stopping to say hello to a man with a dog that seemed nice until he said that all that was missing was a cart. Does he not know who I am? My ancestors may have pulled carts but I do NOT. His ancestors swung from trees and picked fleas off each other all day if we want to get personal about these things.
On the way back to the yard a tractor of terror nearly took us by surprise but we trotted to a nearby field and cut in there whilst the beast got past.
We got back to the yard and received massive cuddles and LOADS of treats and mints from mum and Aunty C for being so brave. What can I say? I am the Destroyer.
So I am now smugly eating grass, regaling Dolly with tales of the metal bird and the metal wasp and generally chilling out. Sometimes Diary, just sometimes, its great being me.
I am doomed. Totally and utterly doomed. Why? Because of one very small, very strong, very bossy Boss Lady who up until this point Id thought was a genuine lovely person. I was wrong......
So this week started off well. Mum worked me hard over the weekend, told me she loved me lots and then left again to earn the money that keeps me in the life style to which I have become accustomed (her words not mine). So Boss Lady Sarah took over looking after me cue big dinners, big breakfasts, great beds and no work. All was good. Hot Stepper and I played I am a stallion2 over our little fence, ate grass and generally chilled out. Until yesterday.... Do you remember me telling you that I thought Id overheard mum and the Boss Lady discussing the Boss Lady riding me whilst mum is way. Turns out theres nothing wrong with my ears....
Yesterday I was subjected to a drilling the likes of which Evil Army Man could only dream of achieving. Stretching down, working into the bridle, in an outline, totally straight, yielding in and out, correct canter strike off the woman is a monster! I hurt in places I didnt know I had muscles. I am not built to ponce about like some well bred dressage fairy, I do not harbour any desire to strictly come dressage stars, I am a MAN not a girl. What is wrong with these people? Worst still when mum got to the yard this morning the Boss Lady told mum I had been a very good boy so mum and her agreed shed work me EVERY week! WHAT?!! Surely this is cruelty in the truest form? Someone help me please...
So when mum announced this morning that despite it raining heavily we were still going out I was faced with a choice. To behave so she might take pity and retract her decision to punish me with Mrs Iron legs or to play up and have her think it was because the Boss Lady had upset me? After a brief conference with my wing men Billy and hot Stepper and taking on board some advice from old wise Tom I decided that if I didnt behave she might punish me by asking the Boss lady to ride me even more so I went for the behave option. And boy did I pick a morning to behave.....
We had barely turned out of the yard when a large metal bird of prey swooped low and very very fast over our heads. It was one noisy individual I can tell you I heard mum and Aunty C say it was a fighter but how they formed this opinion I know not. We then proceeded out of the yard and WHOA! Lots and lots of clouds on legs in a field. I cautiously walked past, eyes peeled for any signs of rouge elements about to strike but Billy and Is manly presence obviously made them think again.
Safely past the clouds on legs we trotted on in the pouring rain, ears pricked like the dudes we are. Then we heard it this noise getting louder and louder but despite Aunty C and mum turning round in the saddle and trying to see where it was coming from we couldnt figure it out. Then low over the tree tops this large metal wasp appeared, heading straight for us. Even the normally unflappable Aunty C started saying rude words and I sensed a general air of panic descend over the pair of humans. At the last minute the wasp veered slightly left and went around us. Mum and Aunty C started patting Billy and I and cuddling us. Quite why I have NO idea. Neither of us had moved a muscle but there didnt seem to be any need to?
So on we went, trotting along the roads, across the fields and having a good canter where it wasnt too slippy. We rounded the corner in the village and were greeted by a row of faces peering at us through the hedge and a loud MOO! noise. Again aunty C and mum both patted Billy and I and told us it was ok. Well quite clearly we were bigger than this insolent little children and even when they ran up and down the fence mooing some more at us we turned our manly noses up at them and walked calmly past. I can be the bigger man when I know Im not the one ending up as a hamburger.............
On we went in the rain and wind, stopping to say hello to a man with a dog that seemed nice until he said that all that was missing was a cart. Does he not know who I am? My ancestors may have pulled carts but I do NOT. His ancestors swung from trees and picked fleas off each other all day if we want to get personal about these things.
On the way back to the yard a tractor of terror nearly took us by surprise but we trotted to a nearby field and cut in there whilst the beast got past.
We got back to the yard and received massive cuddles and LOADS of treats and mints from mum and Aunty C for being so brave. What can I say? I am the Destroyer.
So I am now smugly eating grass, regaling Dolly with tales of the metal bird and the metal wasp and generally chilling out. Sometimes Diary, just sometimes, its great being me.
! How insulting to say you should be pulling a cart. I know the feeling I was taking Mum quietly through the village yesterday while my poncy big dressage brother with extremely long legs left me for dead, when some old lady said 'bit slow isn't he' 
