A Damp, Dark Day

Owing to discrimination against the portly, I am still confined, along with my tormentor, to the paddock with virtually no grazing. Complete waste of time - I haven't lost an ounce, unless you count all the patches of hair TJ has yanked out. Just a typical day of boredom punctuated by bouts of sheer terror.

I was pleased and intrugued to see the humans wheeling a bright blue machine with various cords and hoses and brushes out to our barn. The male human proceeded to demonstrate it's talents, which consist mainly of shooting water at great force thereby blasting dirt off anything it's aimed at. Sometimes it expels soapy water, sometimes clear. He foolishly left the woman alone with the thing and I settled in for the show. She pushed various buttons and the thing made gurgling noises and next thing I knew, she'd blasted the light bulbs and removed the paint from the ceiling. At the end of fifteen minutes the barn looked like a tidal wave had roared through and the woman looked like a nearly-drowned rat. Highly satisfactory from my side of the door.

The carefree mood vanished when I headed for my stall this evening and discovered a gate and TJ living on the other side. He immediately stuck his head through and said "hey, fossil, i lik yor side much mor better." Then he sneezed in my face and bumped his head on my water bucket, spilling half the contents. The nightmare begins and all the humans can do is inexplicably call us Oscar and Felix. Nothing makes sense anymore.