Good Golly, What A Week.


You all heard how my Monday went.  Not good.  Max was a total pest, and someone else ate most of my hay.  I was starving.  Then it rained some, and I got my new blanket all muddy.  Yuk!  And even though I was super careful with it on Tuesday night, it was so cold, and I just had to roll around!  And my blanket got all twisted and I didn’t look nice at all.  I was sad!

Then it rained a lot yesterday too, and I did not get to run around.  I was stuck inside the barn most of the time.  Boo.

Then this morning, I got to go back in the paddock with that old horse that I will beat up if he looks at my food.  And guess what?  All that rain yesterday made my paddock really wet!  It made a huge amount of mud!  I love mud! I love stomping on it because then it goes all nice and squishy on my hoofs.  And then if I roll around in it, I can make myself invisible! To flies!  They do not bother me as much when I am covered with mud.  It is great!

So when I got out into my paddock and I saw that it might be good for mud, I did a little dance!  I danced on that dirt with all four of my hoofs, and I did not stop until it was mud.  And it was good mud, too.  It had a lot of water on top of it, so it was nice slick mud.  It is easier to make myself invisible with the slick mud.  I was so happy!  And even better, the person did not put my morning hay on top of my nice mud.  I do not like the mud as much if it gets in my hay.

And, even better, stinky old Max had to go inside when my hay came, so he could not try to take any.  I laughed at him when he got the halter.  “You have to go inside, naa naa!” and then I ate a lot of hay. Then the rider came.  I do not think she likes the mud as much as I like it.  She said “Huey!” and then she said “Ick!”  and “Yukky!” and other silly things.  Then I realized that she had the halter, too.  And I knew that if she put that on me, the old horse would be able to eat my hay, so I stuck my nose right on the ground and gobbled up my hay.  On Monday, I made a mistake and I picked up my face to look around like I usually do.  I like to enjoy the scenery while I am eating.  But that is how she got the halter on then, so today, I knew better, and I did not look around.

She got it on me anyway!  I do not know how.  It was so unfair.  Then we had to go.  At least I got to dance on the mud again and squish it up around my hoofs.  The person also danced on the mud and squished it up on her boots.  Then we were twins!

Max was in the barn.  He was being stinkier than usual.  I was a good boy, but he was mean.  He called me names, and he made a face.  And then guess what?  He really blew it, that stinky old Max.  He made a face at the rider.  He made a very nasty face, with his nose all huge and she said “You stop that, Max.” and I said “Yeah, Max, you stop that.”  And then he did something really stupid.  He pinned his ears!  At the rider!  Oh, my gosh, she was mad.  She stood right up to him and said “Max! You better stop making faces at me and at Huey, or you are really going to be in trouble!”  Well, that’s not exactly what she said, but I know, it is what she meant.

Well, I tell you what, Max stopped making faces right away.  But he kept saying mean things to me while I was getting the saddle on.  And then he said “You are such a chicken, Huey!” and I said “Why am I a chicken?” and he said “Because you are going to eat the bit.  Only chickens eat the bit.  And you eat the bit, so you are a chicken.”  And I said “I am not a chicken!” and Max said “Prove it then.  Don’t eat the bit.” and I said “I am not a chicken!  I will not eat the bit! So there!”

And I didn’t.  I was not a chicken, and I did not eat the bit.  The rider tried to make me eat the bit, but I sealed my lips and I would not do it.  And I put my head up in the air because I am much taller than the rider.  And I did this a bunch of times.  And then the rider said “Huey! You are being a Bad Horse!” and stinky old Max laughed and said “You are a bad horse, Huey! Ha ha ha!” and then I realized that I was!  Max made me be a Bad Horse!  It was so embarrassing, so I put my head down and ate the bit.

I hate Max.

It was all wet on the ring and I wanted to dance on the dirt to see if it would turn into mud, but the rider wouldn’t let me.  But she didn’t make me trot or work hard, either.  We did a few things, and she said “Good horse, Huey!” and then we were done.  And I wasn’t even hot!

And this is the best!  After the rider cleaned me up and made my hair nice so that it would get a good fresh coat of mud in the paddock again, I asked her if I could get a massage.  I didn’t know she would do this until Wednesday, when she gave me a massage after we worked.  She said “You want a massage?” so I stretched my neck out as loooong as it would go, and I put my face out and I said “Pleeeaase?” and she said OK and gave me one.  It was great!  And the best part of it was that stinky old Max had to watch.  He was so mad that he made a huge noise with the grain bucket and everyone said “Stop it Max” and I just got more massage!  Because that is what Good Horses get.  They get massages, and they get fresh hay.  Bad Horses like Max just get in trouble.

I am so glad it is Friday!  I am looking forward to a few days off.  It has been a hard week!


About Lori Holder-Webb

I'm a Southern Woman by birth and a Texan Woman by upbringing...and yet I find myself living in New England and married to a New York City boy. Up here we use the same currency as we do at home, and I don't need to travel with a passport, but the commonalities pretty much end there. The language is different, the jokes are different, the people are different, and the weather and terrain sure are different too. I moved away from Texas in 2002, and ever since then, I've been the stranger in the strange land... I've had some questions about the name of the blog - if you were not alive, or living abroad or under a rock, or in grad school during the late 1980s, Oldsmobile attempted to shuck its stodgy image with a series of commercials intended to bring brand appeal to the younger generation: this car, they said, is not your father's Oldsmobile. If you have a morbid curiosity, hit YouTube for William Shatner will take you right there.

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