Dear diary
I have decided that living with mother is like playing a permanent game of “loves me/loves me not” with a flowerhead. Only I haven’t actually pulled mum’s petals off (well not yet anyway).
On Friday, I think it was a safe bet of “she loves me not”. What can I say? I was bored and she left that barrow of poo unattended for far too long. It was practically begging to be pushed over. So I did. Twice. I can report that mother was not amused. Mini-mother found the whole thing hilarious and did a lot of shouting “mummy Hovis has POO!” at the top of her voice. I felt this added to the ambience of the moment. Mother, if the pained expression on her face was anything to go by, didn’t share my view. I wasn’t entirely sure how mini-mother and I were both going to fit in the dog house, but for a time there, I would have placed good money on mother mentally preparing a double room…
On Saturday it was very windy. And rainy. And did I mention windy? It’s important that you appreciate the metrological conditions because I feel it does give me a measure of defence for what happened next. I think I’ve mentioned that we’ve all been moved to our summer fields, which are much further from the yard and require going through lots of electric gates. This is not a problem but you also have to add in the fact that Dolly is a high-maintenance drama queen, who cannot be left without me for even five minutes — so whenever mother wants to do anything with me she has to bring Dolly in too. Now it should be noted that when Dolly’s mum wants to do anything, I calmly stay in my field, munch grass and quite frankly enjoy the peace and quiet. I am after all a man.
So wind, plus Dolly, plus a lot of electric fence gates. It was never going to end well really. Admittedly, me deciding that racing Dolly though each gateway was fun probably didn’t help. There was a fantastic moment when we both took off and mother’s feet actually left the ground — it was SO cool! She looked like a stunt woman from a Wild West movie.
Sadly mother didn’t see it this way and did spend a lot of time screaming abuse, about our combined ancestry, and just how many burgers she could have made from both of us. Personally, I think she was completely over reacting — it’s not like we dragged her halfway through a hedge, before squashing her as we both lost our nerve, then crashing into the next set of electric fencing. Oh wait. We did actually…
I then further blotted my already stained copy book by trying to go into Dolly’s stable with her and being a little “frisky” in the school. I say “frisky” mother says “uncontrollable idiot with a brain the size of a pea”. Well to be accurate, she used a LOT more flowery language than that, but you are a delicate bunch — who don’t perhaps need to be educated in the extensive nature of mother’s “unhappy” vocabulary.
Admittedly, even from my perspective in the school mirrors I was impressive. I threw shapes that those Spanish Riding School girls could only dream of. And I have feathers. I particularly enjoyed watching the way my feathers streamed behind me, as I executed some zero-to-near-vertical take-offs that the euro fighter would not have been ashamed of. Sadly, yet again mother just didn’t share my appreciation of my aerodynamics and it’s fair to say the sessions ended on a low point. Well unless being made into lasagne is supposed to be a compliment?
She was so annoyed with the pair of us she left us in our stables with NO tea and stalked off home. Thankfully Dolly’s mum came down later to rescue us and turn us back out. The fact that she reported that we walked back to the field like two little lambs did not go down too well with mother…
So when mother fetched us both the next morning to go for a hack, I decided to make her feel good about her horsemanship skills and we agreed to behave. Which we did. Despite there being more traffic on the country lanes than on the M1 — what is this “car boot” thing that so seems to draw the crowds? We both behaved impeccably. We did have one sticky moment when we were rudely attacked by two rabbits and so were justified in the sideways jump across the road. It was so synchronised, we should be snapped up by Diversity. Dolly then rooted to the spot and refused to go any further so I bravely stepped up to the plate and led the way. Mother was very proud. What can I say? I am the Destroyer.
Needless to say we had a most enjoyable hack even though mother and I did have frequent disagreements about the pace. What can I say? Walk is SO boring….
Herman the German needle man is due out today so cross your fingers, toes, hooves and paws he says I can start trotting. I’ll keep you posted.
Laters
Hovis
