Dear diary,

I am so sorry for the upset, anguish and heart ache I caused last week by my absence.

Blame mother.

She swans off to these hot exotic places with dad and mini mother and doesn’t even get me a temporary secretary to enable me to entertain and enlighten the world with my witty prose and engaging style.

That sounded rather good didn’t it – can you tell I’m getting ready for book number four to come out? I’m resorting to writing my own promotional material as after three books mother still hasn’t got me a film deal…

Talking of which, to be honest I am thinking it’s high time to get myself a new agent. Mother has not sorted out whether I’m allowed to go to Your Horse is Alive this year, she hasn’t organised Burghley for a book signing nor any other high level parties. I have offered my services to Olympia but so far I have heard nothing back – although knowing mother she probably hasn’t actually posted the letter I dictated.

I feel I was totally entitled to call myself the most famous heavy horse in Britain and that saying I was to eventing lovers what that Viagra dude is to stressage lover (weirdo’s) was in no way a stretch of the truth. I’m not entirely sure mother agreed so hence I suspect she hasn’t sent it. If anyone knows anyone who organises high level parties then can they send me the details? I’m more than happy to stand being admired all day and only too thrilled to do some demonstrations with famous people.

I refute any claims made by mother that I am a shameless hussy for fame and would turn up to the opening of an envelope. As for saying I’m like an equine member of that TOWIE thing – Z list and very orange – is just plain rude.

Anyway on the good news front it’s been enjoyably quiet while mother has been away. I’ve been looked after by Aunty Becky as the Boss lady was also on holiday which was fab. Aunty Becky is very laid back, doesn’t follow any of the “rules” that mother says I have to abide by and generally is cool.

We’ve been out hacking with the ginger fly trap and the spotty dude and we nearly had a moment of great fun when they forgot I’m still on trot only work and bobbed off in canter. Sadly though Aunty Becky is seemingly as scared of mother’s wrath as I am, as she wouldn’t let me take off after them and indeed shouted to them they had to stop as I wasn’t allowed to join in. I swear the pair of them then ignored me for the rest of the hack and it seemed very suspicious that the ginger fly trap only seemed to have flies near her whenever my nose was within tail swishing range…

As I have been made to stay inside during the day while it’s been warm to a) prevent sunburn b) baby sit the high maintenance drama queen (equine division) i.e. Dolly not mother, and to c) slim me down to the size of a thoroughbred, Aunty Becky had to come down every night and take me back to my field. Several times she got so fed up of how long it was taking me that she leapt on me bare back with no bridle and we pootled up the field like that. Which was fun. Apart from the day I figured it would be fun to stand in the middle of the lane and turn in slow circles. Which in fairness I found very funny. Aunty Becky less so…

Anyway Herman is due in the next few weeks and so I’m hoping he might pass me fit to start cantering again. Its stubble season soon – and I’m sorry but the Destroyer does NOT trot on stubble fields…

Anyway I’m off to go and give my manuscript for my fourth book one final check before it’s off to the printers. For those of you who have not read books one, two and three (where have you been?!) please remember they are available from www.bransbyhorses.co.uk and all the proceeds from them goes to the equine charity.

Laters,

Hovis