Hovis' Friday diary: 'one-handed wally'

Dear Diary

It’s official my mother is lame. And no I’ve not gone all American now I am a film star — I mean she really is lame (well if you count hands as being lame). She has fractured her right hand so is currently about as much use as an umbrella in a hurricane and moaning like a thoroughbred in a snowstorm. It should be noted that if she’d gone to hospital when she had actually hurt her hand rather than continue to muck out, poo-pick and groom me within an inch of my life — until the point when she couldn’t even make a fist then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I wouldn’t point this out though if I were you — her left hand is equally as quick as her right.

She’s got to see the orthopaedic surgeon (which all sounds rather alarming) next week to be told if she has to wear a pot on her hand. I asked the old foreign dude what a pot was and he said that people smoked it to feel happy. This confused the daylights out of me — especially when he said they also call pot grass? Now I eat grass and it makes me feel great but I’m not sure smoking it is a good idea?

Surely this is how these wild fire things start which sure as heck wouldn’t make me feel too happy — burnt Hovis is not a look I want to try out. I am thus a tad alarmed for mother’s safety if this orthopaedic man is going to wrap her in grass like giant cannelloni and then set fire to her. Dolly did assure me that the foreign dude has possibly smoked too much grass himself. I’m therefore going to keep my eye on him — any sign of matches near my grass and he’s going to be seeing tweety birds for a whole different reason…

Anyway with mother out of action and with me still confined to “walk” duty, I am looking forward to a nice few weeks off. Unless mother convinces Aunty Becky to start my fitness campaign ready for Herman the German Needle Man to come and re-assess me. I’m praying, with her right hand out of commission, mother can’t type but knowing her she’d probably do it with a twig clutched in her teeth just to thwart me.

It’s like the other night, with mother out of the picture I was enjoying some pampering from the boss lady, generous hay nets, nice bed and no stress. So when Dolly’s mum came over for what I thought was a lovely cuddle to comfort me from the trauma of having such a Muppet for a mother — I was surprised but enthusiastic in my response. Snuggling up to her in a way which was pretty much (in my view) guaranteed to melt the hardest of hearts and thus pave the way for her to open my treat bucket. Or so I thought…

Stay in touch with all the news in the run-up to and throughout the major shows and events during 2026 and beyond with a Horse & Hound subscription. Subscribe today for all you need to know ahead of these major events, plus online reports on the action as it happens from our expert team of reporters and in-depth analysis in our special commemorative magazines. Have a subscription already? Set up your unlimited website access now

Hovis shared his weekly diary each Friday on the Horse & Hound website between 2008 and February 2025. Initially located on the popular H&H forum, he moved to the main website in February 2013. He published nine books, each to raise funds for his local equine welfare charity Bransby Horses. You can read all his diary entries below. H&H also published a final tribute to our much-loved equine contributor.

Join the Hovis fan group on Facebook