Apparently Tilly and I are going on a trail riding adventure holiday in, what our humans call, May.
Kat says I am a trail riding horse and this is my purpose. I personally don’t see why I can’t just chill my hoofs in the field with my pals, but Kat says all horses have to work for their grassy munchies.
Tilly and I are going to travel in the sweat box on wheels to get to a place called Rushup – I wonder if we have to run very quickly up hill to get to it?
Then we have to carry our humans and all their belongings for 3 long days. For their amusement.
I know. Why doesn’t she just rename me her ‘Beast of Burden’ and be done with it? You can probably tell, my hairy feathers are extremely ruffled about all this.
Couldn’t they just get one of our Donkey or Mule cousins to carry all their human stuff? There’re much better at this kind of thing than us horses. Also, less forgiving so Kat would need to behave herself. That could be fun.
However, what alarms me the most is where in all the blazing green grasses are my soggy grassy munchie supplies and hay cob treats going to go?
I blatantly refuse to go through this level of toil and strife unless I am amply rewarded. A lot. Every hour I would say.
I did suggest to Kat that she could walk – on her feet, on the ground – carrying her own stuff. I would happily walk beside her carrying my stuff (the grub). Apparently though, that is not fulfilling my purpose of trail riding horse. Meh.
Tilly seems quite accepting of all this servitude and toil. She says it’s grown up and exciting to have a few nights away from home and we will get to share a field.
She told me to stop getting my forelock in a twist and be grateful I’m not being asked to dance like the dressage horses. She’s got a point there, I do have 4 left hooves and would undoubtedly trip over my extremely hairy feathers.
She also reassured me that my substantial stoutness means I won’t even notice the extra weight – not sure if I should be happy or offended about that.
Finally, she reminded me that our humans never seem to change their clothes and are always quite disheveled. They’re clearly not typical female humans, and will probably wear everything they need, opting for the saddle tramp look. This of course should free up pack space for our essentials – food.
I can always trust Aunty Tills to make me feel better.