It’s so cold here at the moment. Not great for the young foal that was born last week in the icy field adjacent to the recreation ground on Lansbury Drive.
He must be wondering why he suddenly finds himself in such frosty conditions when only a few days ago he was warm and snug in a much cozier environment.
When we passed him this morning, Audrey looked at me as if to ask, ‘When are the horses going to be stabled for the winter?’
‘When the evil farmer decides they’ve suffered enough.’ I told her.
I know horses are fairly hardy creatures – and I am certainly no farmer – but it seems to me that a newly-born foal should already be stabled. But what do I know?
‘The horses are cold,’ a small Asian boy observed as he passed us on his way to school. ‘It’s time they were hibernating.’
‘Horses don’t hibernate, little fellow,’ I informed him, trying to be helpful.
‘Oh yes they do,’ he replied. ‘And monkeys.’
‘The only animals that hibernate in this country are dormice, hedgehogs and bats,’ I continued.
‘Vampire bats?’
‘No.’
‘Frankenstein bats?’
‘I’m afraid not. Just ordinary bats.’
Silence. Then: ‘You’re weird.’
I just can’t win.
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