by Enormous on November 9, 2009
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.
Tagged as:
Autumnwatch,
Frankenstein,
Horses,
Kids,
Vampires,
Wildlife,
Winter
by Enormous on December 17, 2008
Good news about Homer the horse: this morning the RSPCA rang to tell me they had taken charge of him.
Apparently, the farmer who owns him has been guilty of neglecting his animals before and this time the Society intend to prosecute him in the courts which will hopefully prevent him from keeping horses in the future. Yay!
They informed me that Homer is now in a warm stable in a horse and donkey sanctuary on the outskirts of Derby and is on the list to be rehomed in the new year when he has been checked over and fed properly for a few weeks.
I did some good! It’s a nice feeling.
I hope the farmer never finds out it was me, though.
Oh, crap – something else to worry about now.
Tagged as:
Animals,
Cruelty,
Horses,
Idiots,
RSPCA
by Enormous on December 15, 2008
I hate people who are cruel to animals; I would like to have them tortured and then boiled alive. I would find their graves and urinate on them; I would then dig up their corpses and torture them all over again.
Of course, I would prefer it if I could prevent them from inflicting any cruelty to begin with but the fact that I am powerless to do so causes me almost as much anguish as the suffering such evil individuals induce in the first place.
There are a lot of horses in the fields around here and as far as I am concerned, they should all be stabled by now: it’s winter – the days are short and it’s very cold. Sadly, many of them are not.
A big piebald shire-type horse that Audrey is fond of – we christened him Homer because he seems a little lacking in basic intelligence – is looking very thin and sickly at the moment. I complained to the RSPCA in August when I noticed that water had not been provided for him. None ever was. No one seems to know who owns him, either. Perhaps I was being naïve and such creatures do not require aquatic refreshment during the hot summer months.
I do not know what to do again in this instance. Apart from anything else, Homer seems to be very cold. He shivers. We often bring him carrots and apples but I fancy another call to the RSPCA is in order as I can think of no other recourse; I can hardly take the fellow home with me, can I?
We said hello to him at eight this morning and as I was stroking his face he let out a big bellowing whinny and stamped his front hooves at us before pushing angrily on the flimsy wire fence that separated us as if to say, ‘Why aren’t you helping me?’
He’s very big, even for a horse, and it quite frightened the both of us.
When we returned to the house, I breathed a sigh of relief and complained to Audrey that my stomach was aching – the reason being that’s where my testicles were hiding.
Tagged as:
ANGER!,
Animals,
Horses,
RSPCA
by Enormous on January 10, 2008
I have just signed up for a month of horse-riding lessons. I have no idea why.
I shall have to ring Amber Valley School of Horse Riding later today to cancel. The thing is: I was seduced by a pretty woman who knocked on the door this morning while I was eating my porridge.
She was going from house to house trying to drum up business. Aspiring to provide for me a diverting pastime, she explained in intelligent, refined language what a healthy pursuit the riding of horses is and how surprisingly inexpensive it was for an introductory course of five lessons (weekend bookings not available).
I hate the idea of riding horses – no, hate is the wrong word . . . I abhor the idea of riding horses. In fact, I must confess that I am slightly terrified of having such a large and powerful beast between my legs.
But I cannot resist the charms of an attractive woman standing on my doorstep.
She was not blessed with stunning, model looks but she had an alluring smile and was wearing tight-fitting, buff-coloured nylon jodhpurs and was carrying a black leather riding crop. She had a generously-proportioned mouth with a fine set of pearly-white teeth – a ‘horsey’ woman in every sense of the word. She had handsome features and a kind disposition – but it was definitely her apparel that sealed the deal for me. I wish I had asked her out.
Tagged as:
British Countryside,
Horses,
Women
