Just the Two of Us?

Grassy Munchies all!

Life in the field with my pals has settled down recently to a nice routine of food, food and more food.

We have a constant supply of hay and Kat, my human, visits every day with a bucket full of delicious mushed up grassy munchies. I can’t tell you how amazing it is; I can quite lose myself.

Our training sessions seem to be less, which Kat says is because there’s more dark. Whatever. It works for me.

There is just one thing that isn’t right and for the hairy feathers of me I cannot understand it.

As a horse we feel safest with our own kind. It’s a safety in numbers thing. Our highly tuned instinct to detect horse eating beasts is far stronger combined than individually. It also means we can snooze if someone else is on watch. Bonus.

So why in the blazing green grasses does Kat insist on taking me on a training session without any of my pals. Just her? How can I rely on her detecting a horse devouring threat from mere instinct when she’s not one of us?

I don’t mean to be rude, but do humans actually have any instinct?

Kat says the females often do, but the males are pretty devoid. And I mustn’t mention this to John, her male human.

Needless to say I have raised the question of ‘just the two of us’ over and over.

I’ve suggested we just don’t go at all. Nope. Or maybe ask one of my pals if they want to come too? Nope. I continually recommend the quicker route home. Nope. The fact I could literally be saving our lives here just doesn’t seem to be getting through.

Between you and me I did discover quite a nifty trick of taking the quicker route myself.

I just locked my neck, set my jaw and hey presto I was in control! Unfortunately, Kat responded by the aptly named ‘circle dance’. She just turned me round and round until I was so dizzy I didn’t realise I was back on her longer route until it was too late.

Then, one day I was quietly moving into the neck lock position when this long stick appeared from nowhere. I didn’t fancy moving towards that stick at all, I can tell you.

I’ve heard stories from my pals about these sticks, or whips as they are sometimes called. I know if a human hits you with them they will hurt. I can’t see Kat doing that, but the fact it was there was enough to ruffle even my extremely hairy feathers.

The stick has been there ever since so I guess that nifty trick has had it’s day.

So it seems these ‘just the two of us’ training sessions are here to stay.

Just the two of us. Plus a random photographer.

Echo, who left us in the summer to make her journey to the ever green fields and horse friends over the bridge, told me not to worry. She said her and Kat used to go for miles, always just the two of them and that eventually she began to trust Kat’s instincts, almost as she would one of her pals.

I find that hard to believe, but Echo was one wise old lady who I respected and trusted, even if she did only have one eye. So I guess I need to trust her on this one.

And, I suppose I could at least try and trust Kat. After all, her instincts were bang on with the soggy delicious grassy munchies she brings me every day.

Still, if she’s asking me to trust her instincts and follow her as my leader, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to put this to the test now and then. You know, just in case I did find any more nifty tricks up my feathers. Perfectly reasonable if you ask me.

Until next time – GMFN


How it Began….

Hello and happy Grassy Munchies all.

My name is Frankie. I’m a 5 year old Piebald Cob – and a proper one at that. I mean I must be about 50% hair – I even get a belly beard in the Winter! I’m very proud of it.

I’m so hairy my Human also calls me Her Royal Hairiness – or HRH for short.

I’ve been with my new Human for a while now – I think I heard her say something about 9 months the other day..? Well, this is what I think about the whole situation so far..

My new owner is called Kat (strange as I thought they were small feline creatures..) Still, as me and my equine pals always say, there’s just no accounting for the oddness of humans…

I was delivered to Kat in a very cramped box on wheels. It took a very long time and made me very sweaty. It wasn’t pleasant and I was right to pull every trick out of my hairy feathers to refuse climbing on board that evil box!

When we arrived I had no idea where we were, I was just so glad to see daylight and hear the call of some of my equine cousins. There was a lady there (that was Kat, I know this now) who I recognised. She untied me and led me off the lorry. She seemed rather excited and giggly. Strange. Again.

Turns out this Kat woman was my new Human and we’ve been doing all kinds of things together over the last 9 months.

Some good, some okay, some just downright worrying. A fine example of this is the constant chitter-chatter to her human friend about trail riding for 20 miles a day, every day! They get very excited about this.

Kat’s human friend Sara rides Aunty Tilly – well that’s who she is to me. They call her Tilly the Train, which I think is a bit rude.

Tilly and I ponder on these excited babbling human discussions about trail riding and wonder what it entails for us..? All we know so far is we are going on very long rides, up to 10 and 12 miles long. Apparently, we’re in ‘training’. Don’t they know we are capable of wandering for 15 – 20 miles a day, every day, in the wild!?

After this 8 mile ride I reckoned I was entitled to some of Sara’s lunch – Couscous wasn’t really for me though…

We should maybe consider staging a protest to all this activity, whilst carrying a human. But, we’re allowed breaks and to sometimes even participate in one of my favourite things – Grassy Munchies! Sometimes I am given a nice treat if I stop and stand nice and still when Kat asks me to.

These are my rewards for being good – they are called Hay Cobs.


I would literally do anything for them – including break through two electric fenced gates, barge through a metal gate, tenaciously open a closed box of the tasty morsels (the secret of how I did this will go with me to my grave..) and happily munch the lot. A lot of the humans were annoyed about this feat. Kat said I was a ‘canny little bugger’ (I think she was secretly impressed with my stealth and cunning).

So anyway, there we are, my story with Kat has begun.

Humans are a strange bunch and probably only about 10% of them seem to truly understand us. The rest somehow imagine we think and feel exactly as they do.

Please! We don’t. We are the opposite.

Our intelligence is a highly refined intuitive connection to ourselves and the natural world around us, in a way humans could barely remember.

We are true sentient creatures, existing only ever in the moment and able to spike and drop our stress levels in 10 seconds flat, simply to save our lives. Unlike humans who seem to keep their stress on high alert 24/7. It really isn’t very good for them!

I’m truly hoping Kat falls into this 10%. I did hear her say the other day she thought horses were actually better and more intelligent than humans. It gave me hope and made me happy.

She also seems very sure there are no Lions behind the hedges waiting to devour me. I need more time to believe her. After all she is a human, I’m a horse and we have a long road ahead of us!

One thing seems certain though – looks like I’m destined to be a Trail Riding Horse! Whatever that really means…

Grassy Munchies until next time!

F x