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Hovis’ Friday diary: she has holes in her yard boots while I’m the equine equivalent of Carrie Bradshaw

Dear diary,

Jingle Bells, my poo smells,
My vet ran away.
Oh, what fun it is to fritter,
All mum’s money away, heh!

Ho Ho Ho! Merry Kissmuss!

This time last week I was Sir Hovis of the holey hoof, with a foot that resembled a dry wall after Jack Nicholson had gone all shining on it. Honestly, I’ve seen smaller holes on DIY SOS; National Geographic were all set on sending film crew in to document the largest man-made cavern in the UK. It’s fair to say the Hole of Hovis was HUGE.

As I mentioned last week, Herman the German Needle Man had indulged in some major slice and dice and cut away a large amount of proud flesh within the hole and after spraying the walls, mother and himself with my blood, had packed me into a pressure dressing with the view that if it all stopped bleeding (hello… Hoverine here!), then Cool New Shoes Man and him would come back together on Friday and swing their cunning plan into action. A plan so cunning you could have put pointy ears on it and called it foxy; a plan so cunning that the university of cunning is using it as a case study, a plan so cunning you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel; they were going to fill the hole in.

I swear, somewhere in the hinterlands of Germany, a village morns the loss of their idiot…

Anyway, the dynamic duo arranged to come up together and give mother the gift money can’t buy; both of them verbally tag teaming her with the talent and enthusiasm of two aged WWF wrestlers. Only thankfully not involving any half naked grappling…

Cool New Shoes Man arrived first and in between filming video sound bites, which mainly seemed to involve cameras up my nostrils and him using his Sunday school voice, he managed to trim all my other feet while we awaited Herman’s arrival. Cool New Shoes Man had also made me a designer new shoe which would hold my foot together and provide better support — to my foot if not mothers waning bank balance; she was last heard muttering she has holes in her yard boots while I’m the equine equivalent of Carrie Bradshaw…

Eventually the German one graced us with his presence and my foot was scrubbed and disinfected before being packed and then resin applied to seal it in. Now at this point, I would like to apologise to anyone who watched Cool New Shoes Man’s video on my Facebook pages who had to witness him fetching the resin bottle out from down his trousers while mother alarmingly waved a set of snips near his man parts with a faintly psychotic gleam in her eye. Mother then proceeded to take a myriad of photos from an angle that will provide blackmail material for years and the prawn industry with two new stars…

Eventually, after much infantile joking about hardening, the resin in my foot went off and I was led back to the stable with two parties happy and one traumatised for life…

On Monday I was given the all clear to be turned out again which was tremendously exciting for the whole 30 seconds it took for me to realise I was back to London estate agent turnout i.e. “bijou”. I did a few jumps for joy en-route, was reminded of the error of my ways through the medium of the leadrope and then settled down to do the important things in life; EAT GRASS!

I will have my resin removed in four week’s time and replaced every four weeks after that for as long as it takes to grow out — I’m working on this really hard so that the lucky competition winner who gets a ride on me from the auction, which is drawn next week, can have their prize ASAP. For those of you who haven’t got your finger on the feathers, two lovely ladies bought me at Your Horse is Alive in aid of Jonty Evans’ charity. They in turn have asked mum if they can use me to help another wonderful charity that mum also supports who look after horses out in Egypt. Mum of course said yes, so a ride on me under the tutelage of Ms Phoebe Buckley (event rider and secret superfan) is being raffled off to raise money for Prince Fluffy Kareem. Head to their Facebook pages for more information on how to get tickets because, let’s face it people, that right there is a prize money can’t buy!

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So, what with my bravery, my charitable deeds and my all-round feathered magnificence, I’m hoping that Santa will be kind to me this year. I would like haylage, horsey harlots and a healed hoof. I’ve also asked him to grant mum’s wishes again but this year to get it the right way around; she wanted a slim ass and a fat bank account…

Have a good Christmas all — see you on the other side*.

Laters,

Ho-Ho-Hovis

*Hovis will be back on Friday 3 Januray 2020

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