Dear diary,
So, my holiday is officially over. She-who-must-be-obeyed is back from Mum-bye (sadly it seemed it was a very short “bye” and then dammit she came back) and has been informed of my misdemeanours while she was away.
Aunty Snitchy-McSnitch-Face Em has told vastly over-embellished tales of my naughtiness which may or may not have involved me messing her about so badly that the boss lady had to get on, and me removing myself from my moorings and sailing like a real Destroyer away from port (aka me untying my lead rope and going for a small wander).
Now in fairness, any of these tales have their basis in small misunderstandings and, in some cases, my very real desire to be a charitable equine.
Take me messing McSnitchy about. I wasn’t. Honestly. I was demonstrating my extensive lateral movements in a free style fashion in a way designed to bring about the joy of modern dance. As for the boss lady having to get on; that again was me showing my caring nature by providing her with the opportunity to ride a superior being which, let’s face it, she has been denied of late. She sometimes rides the small black and white guy who is a dude to be sure, but he’s a short arse and has nothing like my power or quite frankly superstar quality. To be fair, very, very few do. Ask Mary King — she was amazed by my power and joie de vie. I’m fairly sure that’s why she’s coming to Your Horse is Alive, she’s hooked on feather power but doesn’t want to admit it. Her face when I jauntily waved to the crowds at Belton was a sight to behold; to be clear I don’t have hands so a wave with my back feet was totally justified. It wasn’t bucking — it was waving. It’s times like this I question how unfairly life judges me — I am full of philanthropic vigour and desire to enrich lives and I am accused of misdemeanours. It’s so hard being me sometimes.
As for me getting loose — well that’s not on me. Both McSnitchy and mother should be better at tying knots…
So, the clock is now ticking on the release of book number six — it’s been two years since my last one and I think the world has been denied for long enough. Mum has apparently seen the final versions of everything and she’s happy — which quite frankly is something of a miracle. Once again, the very talented and lovely artist Pilar Larcade has tried to capture the very essence of my being in artwork throughout the book and there are many photographs capturing my manly gorgeousness for you to show your moral-less mares to entice them to my harem. The book will go on sale at Your Horse is Alive and then will be available for world-wide delivery directly from the Bransby Horses shop (online shop and physical shop) shortly after that. I apparently make a great stocking filler for anyone who loves horses although to be fair I’m not sure modelling hosiery is a career I am really looking for. Still if my eventing career fails and mother does really cast me adrift in a fit of bad rider rage, then it might be good to have a back-up plan.
Continued below…
Hovis’ Friday diary: #Carrotsforcuddles
Hovis is embarrassed about how the celebrities that have met him have become ‘stalkerish’...
Keep your eyes peeled for press releases on the new book, including the long-awaited title. I hope to see many of you at Your Horse is Alive but if you can’t make that, then don’t despair — just order me online. Books one to five are already available, so catch up while you have the chance. As always, all monies go to equines less fortunate to myself and I make zero, nada, nothing for me. One day I shall get my rewards — a night in the hay with a Mary King bred mare will be fine. I am low maintenance…
Laters,
Hovis
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