I hardly know how to describe the bad news. It has to do with Molly and something called her "cycle". This is a state of insanity into which she lapses every month or so when the days grow longer. Frankly, it turns her into a depraved, debauched trollope. She suddenly begins batting her eyelashes at Doc, who isn't the least bit interested, and as the madness sweeps over her, she begins spraying mare pee at him while squealing loudly and backing into him at high speed. Doc HATES being dirty and the idea that he or his blanket are at risk of a stinky soaking sends him round the bend. He bellows, bites her substantial backside and chases her - which she unfortunately takes to mean that he is love-stricken. And on it goes for days at a time...
As an innocent bystander, I have often been caught in the overspray and in fact spent part of last summer with my face and head looking like they had been coated with glue. It leads my visitors to approach, extend their hand, and on touching my person, to reel back making gagging noises. The woman tries to clean my face with damp towels but the odour linges on till the next nightmare "cycle". Yet another cross I must bear.
The good news is that my Uncle Keith and family visited yesterday, and as he's a professor of American History, he was able to give me some guidance on the political front. He suggests I bear a strong resemblance to a rather full-figured president called Taft. I plan to emulate this Taft person, on the assumption that anyone with that sort of girth knows the advantages of a calorie-rich diet. I'm quite sure Dicey will agree. On being offered the Chair of Law at Yale University, Taft said, "You'd better make it the SOFA of Law". Can't go wrong following in those footsteps.
TJ saw Doc breaking the ice on the water trough with his hoof and of course had to try it for himself - except he climbs up so all four feet are on the surface. With the arctic air that is sweeping over us the ice is now too thick to break and the woman is carrying warm water to us. Regardless, TJ persists in hammering away, making no headway except for a blizzard of ice chips. I live in hope of a sudden thaw, whereupon he will disappear with a crash and I will pretend not to hear the glubbing noises or see the bubbles rising to the top.