Hovis’ Friday diary: all hail the hairies!

Dear diary,

So as Your Horse is Alive grows ever closer, it’s fair to say excitement is building among fans and celebs alike. I can’t blame them, but I do wish everyone would just treat me like a normal horse — one who has just launched his sixth piece of literary genius clearly. She-who-likes-to-take-the-credit-but-has-no-talent-of-her-own let the cat out of the bag this week and revealed the front cover of my new book: Hovis’ Friday Diary; Going Hell for Feather. It’s a picture of me and my BFF Mary King strutting our stuff at Belton International Horse Trials earlier this year, and I must say I do look rather magnificent. The photo angle has caught the full effect of feather wafting and surely will go some way to tackling featherism in eventing. Who seeing that could ever deny the dramatic impact feathers have on dressage? I foresee a new world order when rather than us feathery boys and girls being forced to shave to conform, the dumb bloods will be forced to wear feather extensions just to fit in. All hail the hairies!

The downside to the impending launch and celebrity appearances is the amount of beautifying I shall be forced to endure. The boss lady is on clipping duty, Cool New Shows Man is on pedicures and feather scrubbing will be a twice a week event up until we go just to try and get them from the current beautiful shade of beige to something gleaming white again. All with cold water and scrubbing brush because my mother and Aunty Em are evil. To be fair Aunty Em didn’t start off like that but mother has infected her — sort of like a viral parasite only with more appendages.

We did however get some good news this week and finally start coming in at night again. I note Horse & Hound did an article in the past week (because I is down with these things) about how do you know when to start bringing in at night. I have my view on that — try when you humans wouldn’t sleep outside by choice. It’s cold! I’ve had to grow so much fur, my waist line has enlarged by five inches and mother has me on starvation rations. I’m hoping she’s going to feel very guilty when I’m clipped, and she sees how thin I am underneath…

Continued below…

I had to come in the other night as the boss lady thought I was going to do myself a serious mischief. My lady love had been taken in with what thankfully turned out to be a horrible abscess, but I didn’t know that at the time and all I saw was my love horrifically lame, in pain and everyone looking very worried. My place is by her side, holding her hoof, so I may have got a little bit creative in signalling this; apparently my “airs above ground” were incredible. The boss lady, clearly not wanting two vet’s cases, nor indeed a hysterical mother on her hands, fetched me in for the night, so I could “help”. Everyone was most grateful. Honest.

So, I’m off to hide from the clippers and the scrubbing brushes and attempt to cling on to what’s left on my manhood before I am transformed once more into a large four-legged seal pup.

Laters,

Hovis

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