Dear Diary

Well, she who-must-be-obeyed is back. More’s the pity. The Hovite Army got more photos and I got more grass, more cuddles and more food when Aunty Em was in charge – perhaps we could petition for her to be granted my permanent carer? What do you think?

Anyway whilst she-who-has-no-sense-of-humour-but-due-to-my-brilliance-people-think-she’s-funny was away, I got to move to my summer field. And more to the point I was not doped out of my tree or molested in the process. Which is a totally different story to when I was allowed out into my postage stamp paddock by the whip-bearing wonder the weekend before. This is because the boss lady is a proper horse woman and doesn’t need to resort to these tactics (or to be fair the pair of us were so scared of mother’s wrath that we crept down to the other field like two teenagers trying to sneak back into the house an hour after curfew).

I went down to the new fields with my lady love and the medium sized ginger one (as opposed to the ginger prancing high maintenance one or the small ginger dude) and soon we were all munching happily. They are both in a normal sized field with their grazing only minorly restricted, whereas I am in a field the size of a toilet in a London flat, in severe danger of electrocuting myself if I so much as pass wind. Life is unfair I have decided.

In fairness, over the week that the grumpy one was away, Aunty Em did become highly skilled at moving my tiny little piece of happiness each day so that I at least didn’t starve to death. This is because Aunty Em is kind and most lovely. I miss Aunty Em because now wonder witch is back I’m back to no food, zero tolerance and if I so much as look like moving a muscle in the wrong direction I am glared at with such laser intensity my eyelashes start smouldering. I’m not in Kansas any more, that’s for sure.

In fairness Aunty H and Aunty Em were also having kittens if high maintenance prancing dude or my lady love got within biting or striking range as I think they envisaged one of them having to tell mother I was damaged again. I’m liveried on a big farm and I think it’s fair to say they were both painfully aware of how easy it would be for her to hide the bodies – theirs and the offending equine…

So I have another two weeks of postage-style prison and then apparently I’m allowed a bit more space. If I can do two weeks with more room without going hopping lame, injuring myself or anyone else and convince Herman that I’m still a going concern, then the dreaded WORK starts again. I was spending my nights perfecting my limp just to see if I could induce mother to have a complete breakdown until the medium ginger dude pointed out I’d be back to the box of boredom faster than Usain Bolt after a box of blue smarties, which was a fair point.

I would, however, love to see the look on her face, even if just for a second – and before any of you start saying I’m being mean, she and mini mother cheated in me on holiday with a camel. A camel… A creature that has dodgy hair, spits when annoyed and has always got the hump. And a camel…

A final shout out to the wonderful lady without who I might have had a normal life and been sold to someone lower maintenance with a modicum of riding ability. The lady that brought me to England and sold me to mother. She’s moving on to pastures new and I wish her all the best.

P – You were right in your comment that I am a legend in my own lifetime, but I think you were extremely generous in giving mother any credit. You and I both know who the talent always was in this relationship…

Laters

Hovis

Hovis has been sharing his weekly diary every Friday on the Horse & Hound website since 2008. Initially located on the popular H&H forum, he moved to the main website in February 2013 and has been a regular here ever since. In addition to his Friday diary entries, this talented equine author has published a number of books, each to raise funds for his local equine welfare charity Bransby Horses.