As we get towards the end of the winter, the ground is sometimes a bit too wet for us to go out to our fields, but at the same time, we are starting to get some newly cut haylage in our nets. This results in a lot more moisture in my diet, which means I pee a lot more.
(It absolutely has nothing to do with the fact that Aunty J caught me entertaining myself by sticking my nose under the water in my bucket and blowing bubbles which sounds like a really cool aqua tuba and also means I ingest more liquid. Just to be clear.)
My stable is at the end in a block. The side which faces the opposite stable consists of wooden panelling at the bottom and steel bars at the top. There is also a sliding door and a little cut out space as per the picture. Below is the rug rack for whichever items of my extensive wardrobe are in use at the time. On the other side of the stable is my window, which looks out onto the yard at the back.
So, getting back to my story, because of the extra wee, Mum and Dad have to pay for additional blocks of shavings, so that my bed is warm and dry. I obviously don’t want them to waste money that could be spent on, oh I don’t know, treats, so I thought I would help them out.
I decided the best course of action would be to pull my nice absorbent stable rug from the rack into my stall overnight. I could then carefully arrange it on the floor where I pee and it would soak up the extra moisture. Genius yes?
For some reason, Mum was not impressed with my money-saving scheme. She sighed and gingerly wrapped up the now sodden rug and, while turning up her nose, wrestled it into a bin bag. Apparently if the washing machine broke it was my fault. Honestly, you can’t help some people.
I think it’s our equine duty to keep our human’s on their toes, they like to stay sharp.
Mum had finished tacking me up and was in the process of getting herself ready. I have heard that some humans dress themselves first and then their horse, and there are probably some who get their joddies in a bunch about the order, but this is how we do things, so that’s it. No point complaining to me, take it up with Mum. (Good luck with that)
Anyway, she’d put her boots on, lost her gloves, found them again, took her jacket off to put on her body protector. Reached onto the rug rack to retrieve said jacket, which was now noticeable by its absence.
She looked on the floor, she took off her helmet and scratched her head, she even looked under the rug (seriously?) and then she looked at me and the jacket which was currently dangling from my mouth. Darn, I’d been rumbled!
What to do? Do I accept it's a fair cop? Do I 'eck. The answer was obvious. I gave a dramatic toss of my head and threw the jacket out of the window. The perfect crime!
Mum and I stared at each other through the bars (me looking completely innocent obviously and her blinking in disbelief) Then she started laughing. I could still hear her cackling as she went to collect her jacket, which had landed conveniently in a wheelbarrow. ‘Trust me to get a horse who thinks he’s a flippin' comedian.’ She muttered.
And that, dear friends, was my comedy debut.
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