Lies, Trickery and Rumours

We all know who the liar is around here. The most recent heinous fabrication occurred when Herself casually informed me that my blue chalet/cottage will not remain here permanently but is going to be carted off to the dump some time soon. I can tell you, I am utterly devastated. Especially as she let me hope and dream that I could spend a comfortable winter within it's cosy confines and then suddenly and callously smashed that dream into oblivion.

The trickery enters into the picture via Wilson. Of course. He calls it " ongoing training" and I call it tomfoolery. He says he is strengthening the trainer's reflexes and "bombproofing" him. It looks like a lot of pony shenanigans to me. The trainer gets him spinning nicely on the end of the long rope and Wilson suddenly turns himself inside out (or so it appears) and rushes off in the other direction without being asked. He is corrected and carries on as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Then he does it again.

The Woman has gotten him a harness like mine but in a more rotund size and plans to teach him the art of driving. This should prove quite interesting. I will keep you apprised of his "progress". This is the same pony who had cream applied to his heels because of a touch of something called mud fever and what do you think he did? Licked it off and began foaming at the mouth and blowing bubbles. Herself said he would just have to deal with it because after the compost incident, even if it was toxic and caused him to turn blue she was too embarrassed to call the veterinarian.

And, we have heard very faint rumours of a possible new equine family member but Herself just smirks and says we must be patient. I ask you, what does SHE know of patience?!

Itchy and Scratchy

Last week was the week of seasonal allergies for poor Wilson. His legs became stovepipes, he itched from head to foot and his muzzle broke out in an acne-like rash. He stopped eating (even compost) and said his stomach hurt. I suffered none of the same effects and carried on eating for both of us. It was the least I could do.

The veterinarian came, of course, and left the Woman with various things to give him. His legs were wrapped, his hay soaked and he was generally treated like an invalid. I don't approve of that sort of pandering but what can I do. He even got extra bedding so he could lie propped up with the fan wafting gentle currents over him. I mean, honestly. What if he suddenly had to live wild on the plains, foraging for himself and fighting off wolves? I suppose Herself would trudge after him, fan in hand, catering to his every whim and giving the unfortunate wolves a piece of her mind. He is feeling much better now but still wears what the male human calls his soccer socks at night. I should add that he didn't lose an ounce throughout the ordeal.

We were quite interested yesterday when a blue metal bin showed up and rattled noisily off the back of a vehicle. We were convinced it contained at least one equine and called out in various tones to ascertain if that were the case. Alas, there was no answer. The thing seems to be a rubbish container and of no use to us, although Wilson has expressed a desire to rummage through it. I was led over to it today so I could see for myself that it was indeed equine-free. If it had a roof it might make a nice donkey cottage or chalet where I could retreat to ruminate in peace. A donkey can dream.

Wilson's lessons were cancelled due to his poor health but should be back on track next week when he promises to continue training the trainer.