Sad Time at our place

Thank you, Elfwood. I haven't written in a few days because we're all in shock over losing our white cat. Someone was speeding on the road near our farm and killed her. She is buried near the fence she used to love to sit on. We miss her so much. She was a great friend of mine and used to play in my half flake of hay at dinner time. I was careful to eat around her and even though she would pretend to strike my nose, it was always done very gently and without claws. She also like to drink out of my water bucket.

When she was buried we all stood very quietly in a line by the fence and said our goodbyes. The human woman is very upset and doesn't like being in the barn, especially in the morning when she cleans our rooms. The cat always supervised and spent a lot of time purring and being patted by the woman. I suppose now we'll be over-run by herds of mice.

Sigh.

Icy Sunday

First, let me say that the appearance of that odious rap song at the top of my blog was done without consulting me. The male human still insists on calling me "Twenny Cent" at all opportunities in the mistaken belief that it has some comic value. Harumph.

Yes, as the title says, some form of solid water fell on my person around one o'clock. I was slowly making my way to the front of the paddock when a huge black cloud targeted me, expelling beads of a white icy substance in my general direction. I reversed course, but by the time I reached the run-in, the sun had reappeared. Typical.

More incomprehensible behaviour from the woman. She puts all sorts of stuff (she calls it recycling) into the wheelbarrow, to be put out with our, ahem, soiled bedding. She was busy scrubbing our buckets outside, so I examined the things in the wheelbarrow and found several of them quite delicious. I ate a piece of Potato Rosemary bread and a tea bag (orange pekoe) before she returned and began the usual carrying on. I find all her claims about recycling dubious - she's just selfish and doesn't want to share the finer things with the equines. I plan to continue my own recycling program out of her view.

Sheaffer Rap

Yo, yo, in da' barn...
My name is Mista Sheaffer
I stand all of three foot three
My crib's a cozy barn at night

During da' day it's under a tree
The horses are my main peeps
We all live in da' rural hood
Naturally, grey is my gang colour
That is just the way it should

(Scratch, scratch)

We eat lots of hay and grass
Watch the traffic on the road
Count all the rails on the fence
If I get it right, I'll explode

Don't need to carry a gat
Got protection from Big Doc
You don't ever dis' Mista Shaeff
He gonna' clean yo' clock

Well, it's time to go now
It is sad, don't flip your wig
Peace out there Bros and Sistas
Gotta' go stare at a twig

Sheaffer the Sheriff

My paddock has been invaded by a hairy, black rodent with a huge furry tail (show off). I was standing, meditating, under a tree and there was a sudden outburst of abusive invective from somewhere overhead. A small, hideous face appeared, with a corn cob clutched in it's pointy yellow teeth. It shrieked at me in a foreign language and threatened me with a clenched paw. We spent the day sparring back and forth. Unfortunately he has the unfair advantage of being able to climb.

My own tail is growing so full that I inadvertently swished it through a burr patch today. It now has at least ten hairs at the bottom, two of which the human woman clumsily broke when removing the burrs. I need a stylist. And "product", to avoid these mishaps.

Elfwood, I will bear your offer in mind - I've met the curvaceous Annie and wouldn't mind sharing a paddock with her. Herb Massey-Ferguson sounds quite intriguing as well. I like anyone who stands quietly in a shed all day. And my "Elk" friend, I like your thinking - my new motto is "All Carrots All The Time".

Soul Sisters

This afternoon the human female took the horse female, Molly, away in a metal box on wheels that attaches to the truck. I've been in it once and it has rubber walls and windows high up so I can't see out. Our old metal horse container had exposed wiring, which made for a much more interesting trip. I spent an enjoyable evening dismantling the entire system. while on our way to and from an evening of driving practice (I didn't drive the truck, unfortunately, I was driven in a cart). Apparantly it was a terrible thing, driving home at night without lights...seems silly, I could see just fine in there. Anyway, the next time they went to use the container, there were bits of wire and colourful plastic caps everywhere. Such a fuss over my having an enquiring mind.

I'm not sure exactly what those two females get up to when they go away- something called trail riding - but they come back hot and tired and looking quite smug. It sounds horrible, all that traipsing over hill and dale to no good purpose. I should mention that although they're of two different species, they look like peas in a pod. Both are about 13.2hh, stout of leg, broad of bottom and sporting a shocking amount of out-of-control mane. They could both do with a good old-fashioned corset in my opinion.

Well, everything is much better without rain. They're now plowing the field next to our paddock, and I love the sheer geometry of it all. An enormous tractor with a huge set of discs roars by right next to me, leaving line after line of perfect furrows. So far I've counted two hundred and fifty.

Best of all, I may be moving to England! My friend Cruiser has invited me to go and live with her. As she advised, I've acquired a gold plastic rectangle that will cover all my expenses - the human woman has too many of those plastic rectangles anyway and won't miss one. I plan to fly first class, in an extra-wide seat to accomodate my generous girth. I'll order a carrot juice beverage followed by the vegetarian twig platter. I'm looking forward to touring many National Trust sights and sampling the woodwork. What a relief that at least one person understands my inner donkey.

To underline just how ill-treated and misunderstood I am, I hid behind the barn when it was time to go in our rooms. The woman called and called and then started searching the paddock for me. Probably thought I'd been donkey-napped. While she was out there in the dusk, I slid into the barn and was standing there when she came back all out of breath. I pretended I'd been there all the time. I think it's good to force the humans to question their sanity, especially after the whole unpleasant rap incident.

The weather today can only be described by a four letter word. Rain. I hate to resort to profanity, but there you have it. Rain is a donkey's worst nightmare (along with plastic shavings bags, of course). We breakfasted in the run-in and then the silly horses insisted on going outside. Five minutes and I was waterlogged. Then a wind came up and all sorts of blowing leaves stuck to me. By the time it cleared in the afternoon the human female kindly assured me that I looked like part of a Halloween exhibit - I chose to take the higher road and pointedly turned my back on her.

I used to think the human male was fairly normal but since the "Rap" incident, I've changed my mind. He's posted it under "comments" for the whole world to read! Now he's taken to calling me Twenny Cent. I'm devising something equally awful to call him - possibly Plugged Nickle...

We were let in early tonight to dry out and the human female tried to towel me off. The effort is appreciated but frankly, once I'm this saturated it can take days to fully recover. She remarked that I resembled a compost heap and immediately negated all her good intentions. She tried to make amends by giving us an apple and an English mint with our dinner. I was going to boycott the obvious bribe but when I looked, both items had mysteriously disappeared. I blame the cat.