Dear diary,
Here I write from the dog house where I seem to have taken up permanent residence. My glory days of basking in the adulation of my army of fans at Your Horse Is Alive seem to be far in my rear view mirror as I seem to have upset all the women in my life this week and as a result am currently contemplating a carrot-free Christmas.
So it started last Friday when Herman the German Needle Man came to visit and stick needles into me with his usual lack of morals and cunning sleight of hand. He gave mum a lot of special spray and cream for the sore patch at the back of my leg, told her that I’m a delicate little flower and bustled off to cause injury and insult to someone else.
Mistake number one was made later that day when mum came to put the cream on. I might have flicked my head up swiftly when she went to put my headcollar on and may possibly have smacked her on the nose with my nose. Clearly one of our heads is much bigger than the other and even with my optimistic glass-is-half-full view of life I can’t even pretend that the ensuing tears running down her face were those of joy for owning such a stunning piece of equine flesh as I. Oooppss.
Mistake number two was then pulling a Jet-Li move aimed at mother’s head when she put the cream on which resulted in a swift slap on the shoulder and a growl that would have scared a grizzly bear. Mother is terrifying at times and with watering eyes, a slightly puffy looking upper lip and nose and emitting her fearsome growls then I defy anyone not to be scared into submission.
She clearly hadn’t forgiven me for the rest of the weekend and I probably didn’t help my case with some violent spooking and a semi-intentional up-ending of the barrow which she’d spent the previous 10 minutes filling with my poo. What can I say? She sprays my leg with disinfectant so I should be allowed a bit of fun.
So that was mother not speaking to me, but probably the more short sighted mistake was upsetting the boss lady. She too has been avoiding my flying back leg with the skill set of a determined ninja, but was brought to a speechless halt on Wednesday when she saw the mess I’d managed to create with an inspired mixture of my cream and mud all up the back of my poorly leg. She was so horrified she took photos and sent it to she-who-must-be-obeyed while explaining that she’d therefore had no choice but to then bath my bad leg. I didn’t enjoy the experience; she didn’t enjoy the experience so I mentally resolved to perhaps drop that one from my repertoire of tricks. Never let it be said that I’m not smart…
So that was two of the women in my life a little peeved with me so why not go for a full house? It’s fair to say that Aunty Em has reported that at best I can be described this week as “keen”, but more accurate might be “uncontrollably forward”. She’s resorted back to the spring time tactic of having to lunge me before riding just to have a chance of not parting company due to my enthusiastic airs above ground. She has reported that mother has been informed. Taxi for Hovis anyone?
Continued below…
Like this? You might also enjoy reading these:
Hovis’ Friday diary: Life is fickle and so are women
Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘I didn’t know whether mother was going to cry, spontaneously combust or murder someone’
Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘Mum hyperventilated so much I feared the course builder was going to have to resuscitate her’
The only thing perhaps preventing her from arriving home and immediately shipping me in a container to China, is the fact that as you’re all reading this I am being filmed for a series of Christmas-related snippets. Not only has this given me a small amount of breathing space before the dragon vents her spleen at me for upsetting my long-suffering sharer (good sharers apparently don’t grow on trees — who knew?!), but also gives you the delight of seeing me in the flesh over the Christmas period. Keep your eyes peeled over coming weeks on my Facebook pages and Bransby Horses’ social media.
To try and get me out of the bad books if any one you are still thinking of what to buy the special horse loving people in your life then don’t forget you can order all five of my brilliantly written (yes, modesty is my middle name) books all sold with 100% of the money going to the charity Bransby Horses. They can be found on the website www.bransbyhorses.co.uk in the online shop. You can also buy the exclusive Team Hovis polo shirts as worn by my “crew” and modelled at Your Horse is Alive. You kill several birds with one stone — great gift, charitable contribution and more importantly help a Hovis from being homeless this Christmas. Thanks in advance.
Laters,
Hovis
