Dear diary,
Well from my point of view this week has been relatively quiet as mini-mother had to go and have an operation on Friday so mum has been a little distracted. I understand things haven’t been so quiet for all of you – something to do with voting warmbloods out of the country?
On Saturday we had a bit of excitement as a new guy turned up at the yard. On a yard currently full of ginger high maintenance, drama queens guess what he was? Yep a ginger, high maintenance drama queen.
He had to be walked over due to refusing to leave his current field mate (oh god, not another one) and the first I knew of it was when I heard something coming down the lane screaming like a banshee. I was just having a pedicure from Cool New Shoes Man who is thankfully now all fixed and back to being my number one foot fella when I heard the entire ruckus.
Now we’d already had a small drama when cool New Shoes Man claims I fell asleep stood up and then scared myself by headbutting the wall. Any claims that I leapt backwards like a startled rabbit and snapped the tie string are a complete fabrication of the truth. Honest.
So I’m stood there with my nail varnish gleaming in the sunlight (thanks for that CNSM – just the image I was looking for) when this fire breathing lunatic dragged his owners into the barn. Mum took one look and suggested we beat a hasty retreat, so with mum hanging on to me and urging mini mother on in front of us like a path finding pint-sized point girl we headed for the fields.
Now I admit my blood was up – WHO was this dude arriving on MY yard? – So, I might have been a little bouncier than the norm. This caused mum to use lots of colourful language and suggest more than once my dam might have been a harlot with the morals of an alley cat and no taste. Mother can be very flowery with her descriptions when she hits her stride…
Anyway no sooner had we got to the field than all hell broke loose as the ginger new dude was coming up the field line. This caused the little ginger dude and his pony mate to start cavorting about like cats at a sardine factory, which in turn triggered Dolly to start running about like a woman at a shoe sale. This in turn triggered the other ginger prancing dude to start flying about so to be honest I thought “to hell with it” and joined in.
As mother flashed past on my circuits around the field I was pretty sure she wasn’t saying nice things and that the boss lady and the new owners seemed to be having all sorts of fun getting the dude into the field opposite me.
In the end mother’s sharp “ENOUGH!” delivered in a tone that would scare the devil himself caused me to slither to a halt and as they all respect me so much the others followed suit. The boss lady then forever blotted her copy book by suggesting other than Dolly she now had a yard of ginger prancing things. EXCUSE ME?! Firstly I am NOT ginger – I have an amber glow – and secondly I do NOT prance – I manfully pace. There’s a big difference in both of those elements I can assure you.
Continued below…
Read more from Hovis:
Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘Mother grabbed my Hovis sausage with the vigour of a dieting woman grabbing a bacon baguette’
Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘We were drenched in sweat and both considering murder’
Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘There was so much of me on the floor that mini-mother thought it was a dog’
Anyway we shall see how the dude settles in but by all accounts I have yet another high maintenance field friend to whom I am expected to offer solace and comfort. Please god tell me why I end up babysitting the loons?
So finally, I am hoping to be able to formally give you details on my news on Monday. But you all might want to start looking at diaries…
Laters,
Hovis
