Dear Diary
This week sees me basking in the sunshine and enjoying life to the max, full of beans and happy as Larry. “Why is this so, dearest Hovis?” I hear you all cry — the answer is simples; mother is away seeing Spanish grandmother so peace is reigning.
The absence of “she-who-must-be-obeyed- if-only-because-she-has-a-very-big-schooling-whip” has meant a wonderful week, marred only by the bath she insisted I had before she left. Why her going on holiday necessitates scrubbing me and my Hovis sausage within an inch of our lives. Fluffing my feathers such that I look like an electrocuted reject from Fame in snow white leg warmers, and making my tail so soft and shiny, hay slides down it like the Jamaican bob sleigh team — I quite frankly know not.
Following my diary about our jumping exploits last week my Facebook pages were inundated with people commenting about my prowess over jumps. Many said mother was brave — seriously? Brave? My mother? You must be joking. She shut her eyes three strides out, tucks into the brace position and hangs on from grim death. It’s a good job I’m honest because the only way she’d ever see a stride is if they sent instructions in audio format…
Others said I was a “fine example of the athleticism of the bigger horse”. Which struck me as a similar comment to “he’s got a lovely personality”? Forget about the size of my bum and the feathers people — squint a bit as I tackle showjumps and you’d be convinced Milton had had a manly-brown-and-not-at-all-ginger rinse and put on a few pounds. If mother had responded to all those who asked for video evidence then you could have seen this for yourselves. Alas, mother is camera shy — well plus I’m not sure the “panoramic” lense is truly wide enough for her…
Talking of camera shy (which by the way is NOT something I personally suffer from) mum is refusing to put a photo of her in the new book. It’s currently with the designers and is due for release in September. Mum, as my agent, has been getting the word out and bribing people to agree to cover book number 3 in their magazines. Why they should need bribery I know not (I am after all the equine equivalent to JK Roundbale) but apparently they’re very excited to see a “mock up” of the new front cover. I am a trifle confused by this — I’m not mocking anything? It’s a very serious piece of equine journalism.
Once again, I am concerned that I sense people extracting the urine out of me — but then again that could be the smell wafting from one of Billy’s rugs that I may possibly have weed on. He called me an Irish numpty, what can I say? Revenge is a dish best served wet over an Amigo lightweight…
The good news is that mum appears to be lining up shows for me to go and meet my fans and for her to pretend to have written my book. I’ve already been asked to be the guest of honour at a sponsored ride in September. We’re doing some game fair in October (I hope no one expects me to play scrabble or something?) and mum is looking into taking me to that cult place — Your Horse is Alive. Mum says that might not be possible if a) people aren’t interested in meeting me (seriously? Like that’s likely?) or b) the venue says no.
I assume this would be due to concerns that the security couldn’t cope with the sort of hysterical crowd fever pitch only normally seen when those Wrong Direction dudes get lost at Wembley?
I shall keep you posted but I’m starting work on my demands for my dressing room in anticipation. So far a haylege bar, mineral water, mineral lick and a mass of mischievous mares with no morals (and no fathers with shotguns) are all featuring strongly. I’m hoping some of those showjumpers and eventer people might be there so maybe I could sneak into one of their demos and show you what big boys can do when the jockey actually has their eyes open…
Anyway keep your hooves crossed for me and I’ll keep you posted about the new book and my star appearances.
Laters
Hovis
