Hovis_and_SidsMum
Well-Known Member
Dear diary
My apologies for not writing last week but I was in the dog house and theres no internet there. I have spent a fair bit of time in the case del pero of late and in fact I understand mum was offering me up to the highest bidder on the horse and hound forum only the other day. I have to say I was slightly miffed at some of the calibre of the offers I am the Destroyer you know!! (and am currently gracing page 9 of the Your Horse Magazine so there!).
Last Thursday I started the downward spiral into the case del pero by coming in from the field like an exocet missile it was very windy and I was in no mood to hang about. Just because mother only has short legs I fail to see why this means I should suffer. Admittedly following this up by being a bit lively for Aunty Sammie in the school and spooking violently at the strange frames that have appeared at the side was probably unwise. Apparently the strange fames are for stressage mirrors so we can all look at our legs why we would need a mirror to do this I know not, I just look down and hey presto there are my legs?
Then on Friday I really made a big ooopps. Billy and I were the last ones out and as Boss lady Sarah and mum came to get us it started hailing very hard. Now Im sorry but ask any of your steeds and they will tell you walking head first into a face full of flying ice is not funny so I span round. Several times. Thus inciting Billy to do the same. When it became clear Boss lady and mum were not amused (trust me lead ropes hurt when its hailing) Billy and I reluctantly agreed to head din the direction they wanted us to but on our terms. i.e. sideways. When mum had stopped swearing at me (some 20+ hours later) she did admit that the sight of us two big boys leg yielding in tandem across the field was quite impressive. She did seem to find it hard work keeping up though as she felt the need to lean on my with all her weight all the way back. She claims it was to try and get me walking in the right direction, I am more of the opinion she was using me as an ice break. Both her and the boss lady were rather impressively wet by the time we got back to the yard and I was a little concerned at the way Billy was staring at my mothers udders in her very wet T-shirt. Very wrong.
Anyway Saturday morning came around and aunty Sammie came to ride me. Much to my disgust she took me into the school again and insisted we parade round like a pair of fairies. Now it was Saturday, I hadnt had breakfast and we werent hacking. So I refused. I wouldnt give her the big flashy trot I have been giving her of late nor travel with big flowing paces. Cue Aunty Sammie worriedly shouting for mum and suggesting something wasnt right. Not right? Youre not wrong love I wanted to be jumping or hacking not prancing about in front of mirror holders like a ballet dancing bog beast. Mother concurred I didnt seem right and so we went for a walk around the block instead. Ditto on Sunday as by now mum was worried Id pulled something. God bless mother and her tendency to believe me when I pretend to be sore.
So on Tuesday funky back lady came. Now she had to treat Flare first and after nearly being killed by the hormonal ginger one I think she was most grateful to get me. She remarked how fit and muscled I am at present (why thank you), how handsome I am (thank you again) and how well mum manages my weight (and yet again proof she needs to go to specs savers). She wiggled me about, bent me in all sorts of shapes and then snitched on me by telling mum other than a slight tight spot on my neck there was nothing wrong with me. Im sure the snort mum let out was one of relief?
Because funky back lady is a sucker for big brown eyes and gentle snogging I did get a very very nice massage out of her and bounced back to my field feeling full of spring. Which was great. Till my spring landed me on mothers foot. Once again, despite all the years weve been together, my mothers fluency in the English language amazed me. Who knew there were that many words to swear with?!
So this added to a rather enthusiastic return from the field on Wednesday night did mean that mother decided a beasting of epic proportion was in order. Cue me cantering on the lunge for 15 minutes solid on Wednesday night. Which sounds a little harsh I know which it was.............. on mother. She is fast realising just how fit I am getting at the minute because she was blowing like an asthmatic dirty phone caller on a treadmill whilst I was not even breathing hard. Just because I am a big boy doesnt mean Im not capable of great feats of fitness. This added to all the yummy spring grass and I have more bounce per ounce than tigger on redbull. Ask Aunty Sammie she took me out last night for a hack and I bounced back into the yard as fresh as I had left it. Both she and mother were last seen muttering they preferred the unfit version.............
So Im hoping the new muscles and iron man fitness is going to pay off because my spies tell me theres a new mare arriving this weekend. No one knows anything about her so knowing my luck she will turn out to be a he but just in case I am currently shaping my moustache with the aid of some fly spray and a bit of spit. Im hoping she reads Your Horse Magazine because then shell be well impressed when I go to say hello. So Ive got to go and get prepared legs licked white? Check. Mane impressively tousled? Check. Moustache waffle practised? Check. Wish me luck............
My apologies for not writing last week but I was in the dog house and theres no internet there. I have spent a fair bit of time in the case del pero of late and in fact I understand mum was offering me up to the highest bidder on the horse and hound forum only the other day. I have to say I was slightly miffed at some of the calibre of the offers I am the Destroyer you know!! (and am currently gracing page 9 of the Your Horse Magazine so there!).
Last Thursday I started the downward spiral into the case del pero by coming in from the field like an exocet missile it was very windy and I was in no mood to hang about. Just because mother only has short legs I fail to see why this means I should suffer. Admittedly following this up by being a bit lively for Aunty Sammie in the school and spooking violently at the strange frames that have appeared at the side was probably unwise. Apparently the strange fames are for stressage mirrors so we can all look at our legs why we would need a mirror to do this I know not, I just look down and hey presto there are my legs?
Then on Friday I really made a big ooopps. Billy and I were the last ones out and as Boss lady Sarah and mum came to get us it started hailing very hard. Now Im sorry but ask any of your steeds and they will tell you walking head first into a face full of flying ice is not funny so I span round. Several times. Thus inciting Billy to do the same. When it became clear Boss lady and mum were not amused (trust me lead ropes hurt when its hailing) Billy and I reluctantly agreed to head din the direction they wanted us to but on our terms. i.e. sideways. When mum had stopped swearing at me (some 20+ hours later) she did admit that the sight of us two big boys leg yielding in tandem across the field was quite impressive. She did seem to find it hard work keeping up though as she felt the need to lean on my with all her weight all the way back. She claims it was to try and get me walking in the right direction, I am more of the opinion she was using me as an ice break. Both her and the boss lady were rather impressively wet by the time we got back to the yard and I was a little concerned at the way Billy was staring at my mothers udders in her very wet T-shirt. Very wrong.
Anyway Saturday morning came around and aunty Sammie came to ride me. Much to my disgust she took me into the school again and insisted we parade round like a pair of fairies. Now it was Saturday, I hadnt had breakfast and we werent hacking. So I refused. I wouldnt give her the big flashy trot I have been giving her of late nor travel with big flowing paces. Cue Aunty Sammie worriedly shouting for mum and suggesting something wasnt right. Not right? Youre not wrong love I wanted to be jumping or hacking not prancing about in front of mirror holders like a ballet dancing bog beast. Mother concurred I didnt seem right and so we went for a walk around the block instead. Ditto on Sunday as by now mum was worried Id pulled something. God bless mother and her tendency to believe me when I pretend to be sore.
So on Tuesday funky back lady came. Now she had to treat Flare first and after nearly being killed by the hormonal ginger one I think she was most grateful to get me. She remarked how fit and muscled I am at present (why thank you), how handsome I am (thank you again) and how well mum manages my weight (and yet again proof she needs to go to specs savers). She wiggled me about, bent me in all sorts of shapes and then snitched on me by telling mum other than a slight tight spot on my neck there was nothing wrong with me. Im sure the snort mum let out was one of relief?
Because funky back lady is a sucker for big brown eyes and gentle snogging I did get a very very nice massage out of her and bounced back to my field feeling full of spring. Which was great. Till my spring landed me on mothers foot. Once again, despite all the years weve been together, my mothers fluency in the English language amazed me. Who knew there were that many words to swear with?!
So this added to a rather enthusiastic return from the field on Wednesday night did mean that mother decided a beasting of epic proportion was in order. Cue me cantering on the lunge for 15 minutes solid on Wednesday night. Which sounds a little harsh I know which it was.............. on mother. She is fast realising just how fit I am getting at the minute because she was blowing like an asthmatic dirty phone caller on a treadmill whilst I was not even breathing hard. Just because I am a big boy doesnt mean Im not capable of great feats of fitness. This added to all the yummy spring grass and I have more bounce per ounce than tigger on redbull. Ask Aunty Sammie she took me out last night for a hack and I bounced back into the yard as fresh as I had left it. Both she and mother were last seen muttering they preferred the unfit version.............
So Im hoping the new muscles and iron man fitness is going to pay off because my spies tell me theres a new mare arriving this weekend. No one knows anything about her so knowing my luck she will turn out to be a he but just in case I am currently shaping my moustache with the aid of some fly spray and a bit of spit. Im hoping she reads Your Horse Magazine because then shell be well impressed when I go to say hello. So Ive got to go and get prepared legs licked white? Check. Mane impressively tousled? Check. Moustache waffle practised? Check. Wish me luck............
