Dear Diary
So by the time you read this New Year will nearly be upon us. New Year, a time to make lots of revolutions (what IS with the spinning obsession?), pledge to go on a diet (a year-long one in my case as she-who-must-be-obeyed controls my calorific intake like a warden at fat camp), pledge to go to the gym more and then a week later abandon all such pretence and embrace your curvier side. In mother’s case a side so curvy that balls are jealous…
So I hope you’ve all had a good Christmas and have just about recovered from the horrors of tinsel. I tried to help people but from the emails, Facebook messages and indeed the two poor dudes I saw sidling down the road near my field so festooned in festive regalia that what was left of their self-esteem could be seen running off into the distance like roadrunner on a promise, I clearly failed. I’m sorry. There’s just no helping some people.
So what did the big guy bring you all? I got a stocking, some treats and a smack on the bum with a lead rope. I don’t think the three were connected, but one can never be too sure…
I think the smack on the bum was more to do with my cheetah-like exit from my field and my enthusiastic cheerleading routine for Bob the Cob, who was lunging in the school at the time. I am so misunderstood – I was merely showing my respect for his transitions via the form of modern dance. Just because my mother is a philistine I fail to see why my bum should bear the brunt of her lack of class…
So I’m on count down now to go and see the vision wizard himself in the New Year and see if we can get clearance for lift off, I mean work. Mother is viewing this as something that needs to happen, but at the same time is highly likely to be painful – kind of like a bikini wax. She was hoping someone could be persuaded to do it for her – to be clear I mean ride me, not the bikini wax – and so is currently penning a wanted advert to find a test pilot. All applicants should write to me with a brief synopsis of their skills, their strong points and how many treats they’d be prepared to bribe me with. The advert will close by 15 January so get writing!
Continued below…
Hovis’ Friday diary: I am such a trooper. Modest too…
Hovis’ Friday diary: How dare they doubt the Hoverine
Today is tube removal day and Hovis is concerned about his looks
In all seriousness, I’ve got to get my metaphorical skates on as I’ve got to get fit. It’s Bransby Horses 50th anniversary year in 2018 and we have lots of exciting things planned to celebrate – many of which (naturally) involve yours truly. You will have to stay pinned to Bransbys website and Facebook pages, as well as mine, to see us unveil some of the events, news and appearances I shall be making. I hope to (quite literally) see as many of you as I can in 2018 and raise lots more money for charity, thus earning both my place in heaven and hopefully an hour or two in a secluded stable with one or two moral-less mares.
Talking of which I understand there was some sort of awful issue on my Facebook page the other week with some sort of link which took you to a prawn site. I’m so sorry. I know how many of you don’t like seafood. My wonderful admin sorted the issue immediately – apparently there was hacking involved and not the type requiring wingmen – but still I understand that it was a bit of a shock. Sort of like when mum opens mail from the vet, only with a few more naked people…
So all that remains is for me to wish you a very Happy New Year, be careful with your revolutions (don’t get too dizzy) and catch you all in 2018.
Laters,
Hovis
Keep up to date with Hovis’ musings about life every Friday morning on HorseandHound.co.uk
