So, a few goings on have been going down at our top field recently.

That fickle Freckles has moved out and is living back down on the farm.

I am partly relieved (she is very bossy and extremely possessive over Jack), but also slightly concerned. Freckles was moved because she was eating too much; something I too have been accused of in the past.

Complete nonsense of course. Kat still doesn’t seem to understand the clear difference between fat and voluptuous.

To make matters worse I’ve been wrapped in this ridiculous blue sheet because of something called Eunice.

I haven’t seen anything or anyone going by the name of Eunice, but we have had some windy and wet weather shaking things up recently. Even with my windows (Vet human removed a large square window of hair on my sides to look inside me) this kind of weather is literally foals play to me, so I can only image Eunice is something much fiercer altogether.

The purpose of this blue sheet though is still unclear. Perhaps the Eunice creature is especially fond of blond curvy cobs and Kat is trying to disguise me as something altogether less appealing…?

Which brings me to another point, the blue sheet also hides my voluptuousness from Jack. But, then again, he knows. My luscious curves are etched into his thoughts and dreams. He told me.

Curves thank you, not fat!

So, with Freckles down at the farm for now, that leaves the three of us – me, Jack and Aunty Tills. When Tills had poorly hooves and it was just me and Jack, I was under a lot of pressure to be leader and keep us safe. Despite Jack’s ginger charms, expecting him to have my back would have been an easy (and need I say 5 star) dining experience for the local lions.

Now the responsibility for decision making and sentry look out is shared with Aunty Tills again, things are much easier. And safer. Plus, letting Jack think he’s leader now and then keeps him happy and firmly in the frog of my hoof.

Interestingly, Kat said that was how it worked in the human world too.

GMFN

F x

I have found a reason for humans – it appears they make excellent bum scratchers. Who knew?

It’s written in herd ethics that you just don’t ask another horse to start scratching and grooming your tush with their teeth, not even your pair-bonded partner.

That leaves devices such as fence posts, gates or trees at our disposal, which are adequate enough but only for top exposed layers. The nether sections – and the ones in most need of scratching and a general good tidy up – remain unattended to.

Plus, no teeth or inert scratching device could ever reach beyond my voluminous tail to give those nether zones the hearty scratching attention they require.

One day I decided I had earned the right to politely ask Kat if she could assist by reversing into her and bum bumping her until she obliged. I do let Kat passenger me endlessly – to the point where I have to wonder if she is actually losing the use of her human legs – so I thought this was fair game.

To my delight she confirmed that humans were prepared to stoop to lower places than horses – literally – and dived right in there. Top layer, nether layer, the lot got some very pleasing scratching action from human fingers with those tiny sharp hooves on the ends.

Horse alive, was it good.

Since then I’ve practised my ‘reverse bump’ on several other humans who visit my field. Jazz, the young one with yellow hair, who is part of Tilly’s human herd, provides a particularly good scratch and never fails to oblige.

I did try the ‘reverse bump’ on her tall human sire but I think the close proximity of my tooshie was too overwhelming for him and he moved hastily away to admire it from a distance.

I hope he paid good attention to Jazz’s technique as I will be asking him again.

However, it is Kat who I expect the most attention from as it is she who expects to endlessly passenger me as her human legs are failing her. To be fair she is generally very co-operative, although I have found pursuing her in reverse around the field is an effective tactic, along with pinning her to the gate with my sizeable rear if she ever tries to leave without indulging me.

I realise it wouldn’t be fair to keep this ingenuity to myself so I am trying to teach my herd mates the various ‘reverse bump’ techniques, including ‘the reverse pursuit’ and ‘the gate pin’.

It could really catch on – I could be famous! In years from now they will call me ‘Frankie, the hairy trail riding cob who found a useful purpose for humans’.

GMFN

Fx

In the holy name of Pegasus have I been through it these last weeks.

Kat wrenched me away from my lush green grassy home and best friends, Macy and Tiger, and dumped me in a small patch of barren wasteland down at the Farm.

When I asked why in the blazing green grasses was she doing this to me, she said I was too overweight and needed some time in the Weight Watchers field.

My first days in Weight Watchers are a blur – I think I was in shock. Not only was I being starved, but I could see my field in the distance and hear my friends calling me.

My security and safety had been wrenched away from me – by my trusted human! – and I was left reeling with anxiety and uncertainty.

Things started to look up when Tia joined Weight Watchers. I have been out on training sessions with Tia and her human Jeff, so I already knew her. She is so nice that I quickly elevated her to Aunty status, alongside Tills.

Aunty Tia really helped settle my nerves and get me focused on the challenging task of finding a decent meal from the hoof sized scrap of earth I’d been deposited on.

However, when Kat started taking me away from Tia to do some training, I got my fetlocks in a real old twist. I could hear Tia shouting me this time but I couldn’t see or get to her either!

What kind of punishment is this now I thought as all self-control slipped away from me? Continually being taken away from my friends, my home, my new Aunty, my herd, my safety, my patch of wasteland?

Kat insisted on taking me away from Aunty Tia over and over though and eventually I realised that I was okay, I survived and would always get back to her at some point.

This whole experience has made me realise I am not really the girl about the field I thought I was. I am still very young and inexperienced, with much to learn.

Since this realisation, we have been joined by a third member of Weight Watchers, Freckles.

This is me welcoming her. I think she’s a regular member and a pro in finding a good square meal from a bare patch of earth.

There’s more though…

On top of all this, I’ve had horse hay fever, making it hard for me to breath properly.

The human called Vet came to see me and gave me some medicine. Vet also tried to put the stick up my bum again, but I was ready this time. The serious level of clamping and clenching I was able to produce left her in no doubt that that area of my physiology was not open for business. Literally.

My breathing is now back to normal but I do have to wear this ridiculous nose net to stop something called Pollen getting into my tubes and clogging them up again.

Big Col in the field next to ours does provide a welcome respite from the starvation and annoying head gear – he is very handsome and knows it.

His human says he thinks he’s The Dog’s Bollocks. I have no idea why he is likened to the anatomy of my canine foes, but something tells me she’s got a point.

This is Big Col demonstrating his canine credentials.

When all is neighed and munched, I am really looking forward to getting back to my lovely grassy home and herd up the hill but I think my time at Weight Watchers will be an important experience – one that will hopefully decrease my size as much as it increases my wisdom.

I wonder what Macy and Tiger will make of this new slimmed down grown up version of me!!

GMFN

Fx

Because of the loo roll crisis Kat has been spending more time just hanging out with me in the field.

As a bonus, I’ve been finding out more about the trail riding journeys she has planned for us. Any bonus stops at enlightenment, I might add.

Rather alarmingly, Kat wants to go on long journeys for days on end (or even weeks!) where we travel all day and stay out all night. She says they will be her Great Escape from the hurly burly of modern human life.

I rather like the journeys I do already – from the grass, to the water trough, to the hay and back to the grass. Throw in a stop on the way for some mutual grooming with my pals and it’s time to hit the shade for a doze.

Apparently, humans also embark on such journeys to try and find themselves. I reminded Kat she was right next to me in my field so there was really no need for all the toil and hardship.

She said it was my fault she wanted to spend so much time with me because I offered peace and calm – something that isn’t readily available in the human world.

Well honestly, humans can be a bit dense at times.

If they only managed to replace their endless noise and motion with a good dose of our peace and calm, not only would they stop interfering with the balance of the planet but, they might be able to discover that elusive thing known as Themselves.

No arduous journey required. I get to stay at home and enjoy the quality grassy munchies I’m accustomed to. Job done.

Maybe an increase in my peace and calm dosage might give Kat the escape and discovery she wants without all this journey nonsense.

I will need to be a bit nicer to her, but I can work on that – a sacrifice for the greater good.

GMFN

F x

So, it appears the human loo roll crisis has changed into something more serious. Now humans can’t even leave their homes unless it’s for essential business.

Luckily, Kat visiting me once a day with my grassy munchies is classed as essential, because there’s no one else to do it.

Although the loo roll crisis is difficult for humans, I seem to have come out of it rather peachy.

Training has been replaced with endless pampering sessions in the sunshine and visits to the big building with sand on the floor for some silly antics over poles.

This is the result of one of my pampering sessions.

Look at me! Aren’t I the swanky girl about the field? I just love the way it bounces against my neck when I’m running.

As well as new hairdos, Kat’s been spending a lot of time scratching my favourite itchy spots. I’ve got a lot – my entire hairy body really. Turns out human fingernails are superior to horses’ teeth when it comes to grooming. Who knew?

I’ve also been going to the building with sand on the floor where there are lots of poles on the ground. Kat walks by my side and uses Horse talk (body language) to tell me which direction we’re going in and which poles to step over.

She does put a head-collar on me that’s linked to her hand by a long line, but she doesn’t use any pressure to guide me. I wish she would to be honest – it’s exhausting trying to understand her inept version of Horse. Shoddy is all I can say.

When we’ve practised this a bit, she’s going to take the head-collar off and I’m meant to walk by her side, going everywhere she does. Really? Can’t see it myself.

Once free of the head-collar my plan is (obviously) to go straight to the door of the big building with sand on the floor and request permission to immediately leave. Who wouldn’t?

I’m not convinced about the weird pole stuff and the less said about Kat’s slapdash efforts with Horse the better – but the pampering gets a big hooves up from me.

In fact, I’m sure Kat and I would become firm friends if she was prepared to drop this silly riding business in favour of a daily full body groom and weekly new hair style.

GMFN

Fx

Recently my pals and I were subjected to the full fury of Storm Ciara.

While my friends at the farm were in their boxes called stables, we were hunkered down in our field as she raged around us for a day and a night.

The thought of those snug stables did cross my mind – especially when the torrential deluge turned sideways – but my extreme hairiness and amazing physiology prevailed in the end.

Stables just aren’t really for me. I love the freedom and fresh air of outside too much – even when that air is extremely fresh and wet.

You might remember my recent experience of being in a stable was when Vet put that stick up my bum – didn’t really put me in the best frame of mind to enjoy my new surroundings. 

Despite having a great roomie for the night (one eyed Jake, who is very old and impressively hairy) I didn’t really take to pooing and weeing in my own bed – the fumes got a bit over powering somewhere around 3am.

I can’t see humans doubling their bed up as a loo, so I’m not sure why they expect us to…

I also lost my freedom of choice. I had to wait for Kat the next morning before I could move freely, eat again and talk to my pals. In the field, I can make these choices at liberty, in line with how I feel and what I need.

I think when all is neighed and munched, I really am an outdoors kind of a Cob. I wasn’t born with this extreme roundness and abundance of hair for no reason.

With a constant supply of forage, my wonderfully thick winter coat, fresh air, open space and my pals, I can keep warm, dry, healthy and happy – even in the eye of Ciara’s storm

The bacteria my gut produces from eating forage – hay in the winter – kicks starts an internal furnace and the long, slow digestion process really helps me sustain this heat.

There is also great natural shelter in our field with a line of trees against a stone wall. This is our hunkering down spot of choice when the weather is bad – we often while away this time swapping notes about our humans.

As well as huddling together, being able to freely move keeps my blood circulating and my body temperature toasty. Then of course there is my amazing thick winter coat that traps in body heat, provides insulation and helps keep my skin dry. 

The day Ciara came, Kat bought me an extra-large bucket of warm soggy grassy munchies which stoked up my furnace nicely. Seeing her battling through the storm, trying to stay on two feet while being pummeled with the sideways deluge, was also a welcome distraction.

Although Ciara is now spent, I think we will be hunkering down again soon when her brother Dennis descends his fury on us. Despite my amazing ability to thrive in this foul weather, I think I speak for all horses and humans when I say ‘Spring, we are now ready for you’.

GMFN

F x

Grassy Munchies all!

During a hearty munching session recently I found myself pondering on how different humans and horses are – literally worlds apart.

Despite this my pals tell me again and again of how horses and humans manage to become best of friends, creating unique partnerships and bonds with each other.

To stay alive horses live completely in the moment – all our senses tuned into the world around us at every second of every day. Our humans keep telling us only horses living in the wild need to worry about this. Try telling that to our genetics!

On the other hoof, humans seem to dwell on the past and future, paying little attention to the present. As most humans don’t need to spend their ‘here and now’ trying to stay alive, strikes me they could be enjoying it a bit more.

Worlds apart couldn’t be more true when it comes to our intelligence.

Humans are equipped with a high level of reasoning and self-awareness. Whether they choose to use this is another matter, but let’s not dwell on that.

Because horses are so different humans can sometimes think we’re not clever, but we are – just in a very different way.

Horses have a superior emotional intelligence with refined intuition and instinct. Bit of a nifty sixth sense actually. From a distance we can accurately understand the intent of an approaching animal. A sleepy lion, full up on it’s latest victim, will have a very different intent to a starving lion desperate to eat!

We horses can also sense the emotion of our humans. Often from a distance and sometimes before they have any idea what they themselves are feeling!

Just for the record, we really like hanging out with humans who are calm, consistent, true and trustworthy. A human bringing all the baggage of a bad day to us can quite honestly turn around and try again tomorrow.

Left to our own devices, we can spike our stress and adrenaline levels in seconds to take flight in a life or death situation and drop them back down in equal time – using stress for it’s intended purpose.

As I say though, this is left to our own devices.

Humans seem to carry far too much stress around far too much of the time, which they unintentionally pass on to us. Keeping us confined too long, isolated from our pals or generally never allowing us to be what we are – horses! – adds to this stress, creating an overload.

Horses are congruent by nature – my vocabulary is really coming on isn’t it! Anyway, this means we can look calm and content on the outside, but inside we might be unhappy and stressed. We need this characteristic to avoid showing any weakness to predators.

When we do start showing our stress with so called ‘vices’ or ‘bad behaviour’ it means our stress levels have peaked. Instead of seeing this as ‘bad behaviour’ it would be really helpful if humans considered it as ‘information’ we’re trying to give.

This horse below used to live with us in our field until her human moved her to a field on her own. I feel very sad for her and cross all my hairy feathers that Kat will never do this to me. Being alone can make us extremely stressed and unhappy.

To sum up my grassy ponderings, I reckon that humans are probably light years away from truly understanding how we think and feel. In turn, we horses are light years away from understanding the sophisticated human intelligence.

It seems to me that with patience and understanding our opposing characteristics combined has the ability to create something truly extraordinary. And, I hope me and Kat are on this path.

Although, she could try a bit harder. I mean, a few more hay cobs wouldn’t go amiss. And, perhaps a bucket of grassy munchies twice a day instead of just once would help?

GMFN

F x

Festive Grassy Munchies all!

When I’m not being prepared by my human Kat for life as a trail riding horse, I’m having an altogether pleasing time just being a horse, with my pals in our field.  

The field is a large space and there are 5 of us in our little herd. There is an accepted hierarchy.  I appear to be No 4, second to the bottom (I’m working on this). 

What it means is there are 3 others who are allowed to eat the haylage before me and to move me out of their way.  Or any way they feel like actually.  I feel very smug when Kat comes into the field and moves them out of MY way.

Anyway, it’s a work in progress and my extreme hairiness is a good disguise for my true wily and tenacious nature. You remember the grand theft hay cob incident don’t you? Say no more. I will be No 3 by the time I’m 6.

As there is one below me, there is hope.  Although, Tiger is the only male of the field so it could be argued he is taking his rightful place.   

Cassie is very much the Leader of our group, with Gilly her close No 2.

A Leader horse is very different to a Boss horse.  Leaders are intelligent and use minimal effort to make us ‘want’ to do as they ask and to follow them.

Boss horses, on the other hand, are dim-witted and heavy-hoofed.  They make a real song and dance about ‘ordering’ us to do what they command and to follow their bossy lead. Or else.

It’s easy to tell the difference.  Even a human could probably spot this one.

Leaders just give us ‘that’ look and we understand what we need to do.  A Boss horse will create a right old rumpus over the smallest thing.  They will charge at us, ears pinned back, teeth bared to bite our retreating bums.  Even worse, run us a ragged 10 laps round the field, just to move us away from the haylage.   It’s all very brash and unnecessary.

The main problem with Boss horses though is they’re using up all their energy to put on this hullabaloo of a show.  The question we then ask as a herd is how much energy will they have left when they need to lead us into a flight or death situation?

The Leader horse who uses little energy to get us to do what they want, generally earns the respect as the intelligent, trustworthy Leader. The one we feel confident and safe in following. The one we know will have unstoppable energy to help us all hot-hoof it if a lion came calling. 

Cassie fills this role pretty well.  She is another wise old lady with plenty of years under her fetlocks.  

Echo used to tell me about Murray who was the out and out Leader from the moment he stepped one of his long, black, aristocratic limbs into the field.  He only had to saunter past the other horses and they were putty in his hoofs.  Secretly, I think all the females were up to their forelock in deep swoon. 

Humans can get annoyed with their horse if they are a bit lazy out on the trail or in the arena.  Little do they realise they might have a highly intelligent Leader horse as their partner, conserving vital energy in-case they need to high tail it in the opposite direction to something intent on a horse/human sandwich for dinner!

It’s grass for thought actually. Perhaps I’m a bit too keen on my training sessions…

We of course prefer to have a Leader horse in charge rather than a Boss horse.  Same goes for our humans.  We like quiet but clear and considerate requests that make us feel safe, confident and happy.  Much nicer than a loud, flappy, angry, order, thank you very much.   

I haven’t experienced much loud flappyness from Kat yet, although she did get a bit cross the other day while she was cleaning my feet.  I was convinced that with a little effort, and on 3 legs, I could reach those hay cobs in her zipped pocket. I did hear her muttering something about NO more hay cobs for you Mrs. Might have blown that one.

Until next time, soggy grassy munchies

F x