a good read

dear readers, i have asked herself to help me with a very short post this morning, just to direct you to a new blog written by a dear friend of ours, which is a refreshing antedote to the daily grind in which we find ourselves mired.

forty days of happiness

and if you pop by, make sure to let her know who sent you.

channel hopping

dear readers, here you see the sad remains of our zapper. there has been a certain amount of confusion relating to the telly lately. herself, as part of the ongoing "save money so bonzo can spend it" campaign, has moved her mobile phone provider to a much cheaper one which also meant she could get a free new phone.

as the old mobile phone provider was the same company that provides our broadband this meant that she could change the broadband provider to a cheaper one too, which she did with great speed. what she had not bargained for was that the telly digital box would no longer work as the telly was coming down the broadband wire. himself was somewhat peeved about this as he has a special 'wall to wall football' channel which also ceased to work.

herself settled down to research the issue and came to the conclusion that the only way round this was to buy a new digital box which would allow the 'wall to wall football' to be accessed. however in the meantime there was no telly at all coming down the broadband wire so the peeps had to go back to what is called 'terrestrial telly'. i am not sure why it is called this as the signal comes down a different wire from the roof.

the terrestrial telly has a different zapper to the digital box. this would be fine, but for the fact that the terrestrial zapper was a little the worse for wear, as a result of young dave having tried to change the channel from wall to wall football to the dog whisperer when no-one was looking. unfortunately for the zapper, young dave had to use his teeth, which resulted in a problem with the number 3 button. the peeps were aware that young dave had been at the terrestrial zapper because of the teeth marks, but until now have only been using it to turn the volume up and down so they were unaware of the number 3 button issue.

"why does it keep trying to find channel 333?" wailed himself (terrestrial telly only has the 4 channels).

"i think it must have been when dave chewed it up," said herself, changing to channel 33 with no appreciable effect. the screen was just as blue as before, as was the air.

when himself had left the room, herself got out the toolbox and de-constructed the zapper. this allowed the number 3 button to express itself again and thus gave access to 4 channels. the only snag was that the labels for most of the buttons were on the case. herself gleefully showed himself the newly operative zapper when he re-appeared.

"the only thing is, you can't see what half the buttons are for now, but i'll keep the top bit so we can use it to work out what's what."

i just hope the new box turns up soon...

some new readers

dear readers, yet again i must grovel and apologise for the lack of contact. it is a wonder i am able to retain my loyal readers with such a poor service. my problem is, as always, that herself is so busy horsing around that it is very difficult to pin her down to do my typing.

however she was shamed into finding a moment after an exchange of text messages yesterday with the gypsy. the gypsy, who has known herself for hundreds of years, keeps a quiet eye on the peeps from afar and reads my musings in order to gauge the level of chaos and madness in our house. of course when there are no musings she has to resort to her crystal ball, or to more modern methods such as text messaging.

last night the peeps were watching telly when herself's new phone gave a little dingle. it is a rather pleasing little toy with a touch sensitive screen. what this means is that pretend buttons appear on the screen and you press them, rather than real buttons like the old phone. the phone has a little stick that you can use to press the buttons, in the interests of accuracy. herself, needless to say, is in too much of a hurry to get the little stick out of the bottom of the phone, so tends to rely on her less accurate thumb.

anyway, the dingle was a text message from the gypsy.

"hiya u. is everything ok? u.ve not written your joker blog for a while. i.m just checking! Xxx"

herself was mortified that her poor approach to her secretarial duties had caused her old mate to worry. quick as a flash she texted back,

"i'm fine, great to hear from you. come and visit soon"

the gypsy replied that she would when she could but her dad is not well. this was when things went a bit haywire. herself's reply merely said, rather cryptically,

"o4"

the gyspy replied,

"whats o4?!!!"

herself made the mistake of trying to be cool and use text speak. her next message said,

"SoS have spent the last half hour"

this clearly did not convey the fact that the peeps were snug on the sofa watching telly and the gypsy wrote back,

"Nope! Messages r garbled. Either your phone is [bust] or you r trying to tell me something that i am not getting. R u having an emergency that i need to seek aid 4?"

this last message was not discovered by herself until this morning so it is lucky that the gypsy had not summoned the emergency services. i suppose she knew that i was here keeping an eye on things...

as well as writing a post to let the gypsy know that we are still alive, i also want to welcome some new readers. young dave and i were charging around mrs collie's front garden, after a visit to mrs collie for herself to scrounge breakfast. i got into the car when asked but young dave, true to form, decided to pick up a piece of the magnificent bonzo's hoof and run round in circles with it. i should point out for the benefit of my more sensitive readers that the piece of hoof was no longer attached to bonzo - the farrier came yesterday to trim up his feet and put on new shoes and there are always tasty morsels of hoof left around afterwards.

herself was doing the usual thing of trying to look more interesting than what dave was playing with, unsuccessfully, it has to be said. it is rather poignant that she is less interesting than a discarded bit of horse hoof. just then some greyhounds came into view. one had a coat on and a basket muzzle just like the one i had to wear after the misunderstanding about the deer. the other one had a rather elegant embroidered collar. herself managed to grab young dave while he was making eyes at the lady greyhound, and got chatting with their people. it seems these lovely creatures are called lily and dennis. i am not sure what the people are called.

the magnificent bonzo and little libby came and peered over and through the fence respectively, hoping for carrots. the nice people said that next time they went past they would try and remember to bring carrots. herself told them about me being a world famous lurcher and they said they would try and find my blog. so in anticipation of them succeeding:

hello dennis, lily and your people!

one and a half hosses

dear readers, another eventful week!  at the weekend bonzo's new friend arrived.  she is being lent to bonzo to stop him escaping in search of company.   she is called libby and is very small and just like a bear.  she has very thick fur and lots of hair over her eyes, just like bonzo.   bonzo took to her straight away and soon they were happily charging round the field.   

things were going swimmingly until bonzo realised that he had to share his food with libby.  this caused a certain amount of ear flattening and teeth baring.  libby pretended not to notice this rather ungentlemanly behaviour but drew the line at bonzo nipping her rather large behind.  she turned round and let him have it with her back feet in his chest.  this is called establishing the pecking order.   it seems that whoever can behave in the most scary fashion is allowed to peck the other one.  young dave and i have a similar arrangement.  

so the equine friends settled down to domestic bliss, punctuated by argy bargy at mealtimes.  for a couple of days this was fine.  then yesterday herself was getting the food for the pair of them, while young dave and i were pootling round the field, and all of a sudden bonzo sped up to libby at full tilt.  bonzo is not called 'the magnificent bonzo' for nothing.  he is a sight to behold at the best of times, but at speed is something else.  libby sped along beside him, her little legs running at twice the speed of his.

unfortunately bonzo has not read the highway code and had no idea about stopping distances.  as he approached the new wooden fence we could see his large but rather slow brain working.  it was clear that even with an emergency stop he was not going to avoid catastrophe.  but behind all that hair is a hint of genius.   as bonzo approached the fence he suddenly took off!  young dave and i had never seen anything like it - a flying horse!  unfortunately bonzo had got his calculations slightly adrift and, while he cleared the lower two rails, he smashed through the top one as though it was matchwood.  

libby galloped around the field neighing.   bonzo galloped up and down outside the field shaking his impressive head and neighing.  young dave ran round the field, dodging libby, with a plastic bottle in his mouth.  the only creature with any sense was myself, as you would expect.  i sat quietly and made mental notes.

eventually herself managed to catch young dave and we were placed in the car.  then herself whistled for bonzo, who came running in a way that put young dave to shame.  with the help of the nice lady at the stables eventually everyone was where they were supposed to be.  herself stood staring at the wreckage of the new fence.   i could not hear from inside the car but it looked to me as though she may have uttered an expletive.

the rest of the morning was taken up with fitting little rubber screw thingys into the new fence to take an electrified tape.  this gives bonzo a zap or two, after which he avoids it like the plague  (the problem with the previous electric fence appears to have been that the electricity was not traveling down the tape).

aside from all this horse-related drama, things have been a little sore in the thumb department.   regular readers will recall a little problem i had with my thumb.    it appears that, true to form, i am taking a while to heal.   so this evening, after a busy day of horsing around, off we went to the evil vet.  dr andy had a look at the thumb and gave it a little bathe.  then he stuck more needles in me.  having the ear of the vet herself asked about my poor old hips, which give me a fair bit of gip these days.

"i have a friend who is an acupuncturist," said dr andy, "it is very good for arthritis in dogs."  herself looked amazed.

"you mean stick more needles in him?  wouldn't the screaming be unbearable?"  at this i pricked up my ears.  i have no idea what an acupuncturist is but if they stick needles in you then i would be out of there before they could get their sewing kit out.   

anyway, i now have more pills and painkillers.  as soon as we got home from the evil vet's i felt better.  i gave young dave a little duffing up, just so he remembered who is where in the pecking order...

no snow

dear readers, at last the magnificent bonzo is coming home!  regular readers will recall that after herself fell off him in december, bonzo was sent to uncle gary's hoof camp for some lessons in coping with an incompetent rider.  this included modules on standing still while said rider clambers aboard, keeping all four feet relatively near the ground, only galloping when told to, and saddle management, with special emphasis on its positioning on top of the body and not underneath.  

just before christmas uncle gary declared that bonzo had passed with flying colours.  he took herself out for a ride.  herself was a little apprehensive.  her apprehension turned to panic when bonzo started to get a little irritated with a small dog who was running in and out of his feet and barking incessantly.  bonzo prefers his dogs large and hairy, like his good self.  fortunately young dave and i are able to oblige in the largeness and hairiness department.

"gary, i'm really scared!" squeaked herself.

"just breathe," said uncle gary.  uncle gary is not herself's uncle, by the way.  he is bonzo's uncle, although i fail to see the resemblance.  i think it may be one of those courtesy titles.

herself breathed.

"i'm still scared!"  i suppose at least she was scared but breathing.

"if you calm yourself down, bonzo will respond," said uncle gary, "make your voice lower."

herself understands the importance of a low voice.  going into court and squeaking tends to give the game away to the other side that you are on the back foot.  over the years herself has learned to sound deeper voiced and more confident that she feels.

"good boy, bonzo," she said, sounding like a sumo wrestler.  or perhaps a bishop.  the rest of the outing passed without incident.  

a second attempt a couple of days later was much more successful and uncle gary said bonzo was ready to return home to his field.  however, the night before the big day it snowed and carried on snowing for some time.  everywhere was bathed in white.  the stables were snowed in.  the field was snowed in.  bonzo wasn't going anywhere.  it has to be said that bonzo had no objection whatsoever to this.  uncle gary's place is the horse equivalent of a health farm, with a warm barn, friendly people to scratch bonzo's big head, nice horses to chat to and lots of grub.  bonzo was very happy to spend christmas in the warm rather than in his drafty field.

eventually the snow thawed and plans were made for the journey.  but the day before bonzo was due to come home it snowed again.  this time it snowed even more.  mrs collie was snowed in up the hill where bonzo's field is (or more properly where mrs collie's field which bonzo lives in is) and had to be rescued by herself.  i was beginning to think that bonzo had come to an arrangement with the weather people.  it is decidedly suspicious that each time he was due to come home a blizzard arrived.

time passed and last week both the stables and the field were accessible.  herself began to make the final arrangements at the field to make it comfortable and safe for the big fellow and his new little friend.  there was one last bit of fencing to do, which fortunately a proper fencing man is doing today (the prospect of a fence erected by herself does not bear thinking about).

there is a ton a gravelly stuff to spread where the mud is but first herself needed to lay her hands on some hardcore to build up the area by the gate. yesterday she went on the internet and found some.  she rang the man and arranged to come and collect a trailer load.  the only downside was that the man was an hour's drive away, but at least the hardcore was free.  herself peeled herself off the computer and took young dave and i out for our walk.  as we approached the house the new neighbour the other side of the next-doors (this is not the owner of the little dog but the other way) came out.  he and his dad are doing major building work before his wife and baby move in.  the building work involves knocking down walls.

"you wouldn't have any hardcore, would you?" asked herself.  i didn't know where to put myself.  herself is a totter of many years experience.  she finds it hard to go past a skip without peering in to see if there is anything useful in it.  the advent of recycling as a worthy lifestyle has made this less of an embarrassment than it must have been in the past but by all accounts herself was at this lark long before recycling was invented.  but this poor man had hardly got the wall down and there she is scrounging it.

anyway to cut a very long story short (a saying, dear readers, no stories were injured) herself popped young dave and me into the house and wheeled her trusty trailer along to where the building was happening.  the arrangement is that the builders will fill the trailer with hardcore and herself will take it up to the field.  on the way down she will bring a load of the unmanageable and prickly old fence which she is slowly taking to the dump.   it made the fencing job cheaper if herself got rid of the old fence but she is regretting this particular money-saving ploy.   getting several hundred yards of rusty wire netting into a small trailer is something of a task.  it involves herself standing in a very precarious manner on top of the coils of wire in order to squash them into shape.  i may start selling tickets.

anyway, i am being told that i must draw this musing to a close as we are off to the field with the first load of hardcore.   i just hope that hoss appreciates all the effort...

a new toy

dear readers, thank you all for your good wishes for my recovery.  i am now back to normal and much relieved to no longer be in pain.  this evening young dave and i had a surprise.  mrs next door knocked on the door saying that there was a little dog running up and down the road.  herself, being a lover of animals, put on her coat and joined mrs next door in trying to ascertain what the little dog wanted.   herself immediately recognised it as being one of the little dogs from next door but one.  

the peeps had been over the road at her maamship's house when the new next door but one moved in, giving them ample opportunity to view her and her two little dogs.  and a few days later the same little dog had been found in the road, having escaped from the garden through a very small gap.  

herself and mrs next door tried to find the little dog's owner, but could not get a reply.   as the temperature is sub-zero it was clear the little dog could not be left outside.  mrs next door has a house full, what with young ruby and the next doors, and mrs next door's friend who is staying while she recovers from pneumonia.  added to this mrs next door has had a tooth out and is suffering.  so the little dog was brought into our house and a note was placed on the door where it lives.  

i have to say i was at first rather concerned at the appearance of  a canine visitor.  young dave, however, was thrilled.

"look joker, they've got us a toy dog!" he beamed.  it was only when he approached the little dog that he realised it was alive.  and not only that, it bore more than a passing resemblance to the chihuahua that chases him at the local park.  young dave circled the little dog very cautiously, sniffing its ears.  

the evening has proved entertaining.  young dave is huge compared to the little dog but is very alarmed every time it moves.  the peeps were hoping to have an early night but are rather worried about going to bed before the little dog is claimed by its owner.  i think young dave and i may have to share our sofas again...

ps: the little dog's owner arrived to collect her at 10.45 so all is well!

all fingers and thumbs

well dear readers, happy new year to you all!  i hope you all had a nice break from the daily grind over the winter hols.  we have had a lovely time with a stream of friends round, most of whom are not clued up in thievery.   this has allowed young dave and i to liberate considerable amounts of grub from unattended plates.

the new year was seen in with true lurcher style.  we went for a visit to herself's friend miss jones, who lives on a boat.  the boat is on an island in a large river.  as miss jones has two lurchers, young dave and i were also invited.  we have met these two before when they visited us, so it was assumed that things would go smoothly.  however, for some reason, perhaps due to female hormones, the lady lurcher decided to have a bit of a growl as young dave and i climbed up the steps.  in the chaos that followed i somehow managed to catch my thumb claw on something and wrenched it upwards.  to say this hurt is something of an understatement.   and then there was the blood, although not in the quantities i am capable of producing it, thankfully.  

when things had settled down a little and i had declined the offer of a bathed thumb, followed with a sock and gaffer tape, herself, miss jones and another friend sat down to lunch.  because the boat has windows in the roof, lunch was punctuated with snatches of young dave running around above, chewing a squeaky turkey which he had taken a fancy to.  there was something decidedly surreal about the sight of young dave's undercarriage above the table, with a rubber turkey clutched in his over-enthusiastic jaws.

luckily the rest of the visit passed without incident and we headed home.  by now the old thumb had settled down to a dull ache so i was saved a visit to the evil vet.  but only until the following day.   herself arranged for me to see the evil vets where we used to live, as they understand my delicate constitution.  the new vet in our road has not yet managed to worm himself into my affections.  young dave of course has been won over with gifts of dog treats.  but i have had to curl my lip on a number of occasions when the new vet has tried to take liberties.  so it was off to the old evil vet for an appointment with dr andy.  

on the way we called into the feed merchants.  this is where magic jim works.  magic jim is the man who saved my life when i was hit by the car.  he was on the phone when we arrived so herself and i had a chat with the nice ladies behind the counter while we waited.  no sooner had i accepted some dog treats than a lady came in looking for a coat for her goat.  it seems the goat is called hermione and has a nasty cough.   the lady rather carelessly did not have hermione with her so when it came to choosing what size coat she should buy i was drafted in to do an impression of a goat so she could see which coat might fit.   luckily i did not have to cough as well.  it seems that every time we go out of the door something interesting happens, but this is the first time  i have had to pretend to be a goat.  magic jim was still tied up on the phone so we eventually reluctantly left for the evil vets.  

we had quite a long wait while a very fluffy lady dog was seen but eventually the moment could be put off no longer.   dr andy looked at the thumb claw.  

"i could have a go at just tugging it to see if it comes off," he began.   he must have seen the look on my face because he swiftly moved on.  "but given this chap's age, and the fact that he is a lurcher, i think it would be better to sedate him and do it properly."

it seems that i am to have a sedative that costs as much as gold dust, which is reserved for dogs with poorly hearts (there is nothing wrong with my heart but due to my advancing years you can't be too careful).  so today i am off to the evil vets again.  i have to say i don't relish the thought of more pain.  i am a bit of a delicate soul on the pain front.  but at least i know i am in safe hands.  dr andy and dr matt are responsible for the bulk of the train network of scars that criss cross under my fur.  without their needlework i would not be around today so i must be brave and try not to cry too much.

it is just as well i have a personal assistant to do my typing.  it would be even harder with one paw...

now we're cooking

dear readers, here is a picture of our new oven. when we moved into our house the kitchen had been put in fairly recently. there was a rather technical oven which had all sorts of features that no-one would ever use, like steam cleaning. i mean, who cleans their oven?

along with a lot of other features of the house, the oven was a bit temperamental. the people who used to own the house were rather slapdash about reading the instructions before doing things, much like herself. the oven would throw a wobbly when it got to a certain temperature and blow all the electrics, plunging the house into darkness. it became the peeps' habit to warn everyone that the oven was on as it would crash all the computers. this was most frustrating if a chap had just written a musing and had not yet saved it.

herself is fortunate in that she has a dear friend who is an engineer. a series of increasingly technical e-mails were exchanged. it appeared that the element might have gone caput. or more accurately the coating on the element had gone caput. it seemed that a certain type of electrical measuring device called a multimeter was needed to ascertain the cause of the problem.

but no sooner had herself borrowed such a thing than the oven stopped blowing the electrics. however, next the grill went caput. the grill was a dual grill. there was an element that went round the middle and and an element that went round the outside. the middle element was the one that went caput. so anything that was being grilled had to be arranged precariously round the outside and would only half cook even then.

herself investigated how much the spare parts might be. and then investigated how much a new oven from ikea might be, while munching her muesli. she spoke to himself, who is the main user of the oven. himself said he just wanted an oven that worked. herself ordered a new oven online and then polished off her breakfast.

the new oven arrived yesterday. the peeps are having curry for christmas dinner so strictly speaking the oven could have waited. but, as regular readers will know, herself does not do waiting. as soon as she got home from work the lights went off and out came the torch. there was a brief interlude when the lights had to go back on so she could look up on the internet how to get the door of the old oven off but no sooner had that been done than we were back in darkness. the young snake charmer was round being looked after while her peeps were off doing something. my boy and the young snake charmer decided that the house being in darkness would make the ideal setting for a swift game of hide and seek. this did nothing to calm things down. the young snake charmer is off her head with excitement about christmas and cannot stop bouncing up and down.

as the old oven came out of the gap, a load of crunchy burnt stuff fell on the floor. young dave considers it his civic duty to hoover up crunchy burnt stuff so placed himself in front of the gap where the oven had been, munching. herself by now was inside the gap, doing up the new wiring by torchlight, showing her generously upholstered rear end to its full effect.

the young snake charmer decided it might be a good idea to hide among the ovens, polystyrene packaging, burnt stuff and dave. a loud crunch rang out.

"oops! i've trodden on something!" giggled the young snake charmer. the peeps exchanged looks in the gloom, hoping it was not a vital part of the oven.

eventually the new oven was in place, the power was restored and the oven was tested. it worked. amazingly. the bit that had been trodden on was repaired and stuck back in place below the oven. it is a fairly essential bit as it is to keep dogs out of the underneath of the oven. young dave has a habit of getting singed while trying to steal food so it is just as well it was not beyond repair.

baked potatoes were put in to cook. the young snake charmer carried on bouncing. by now my boy's friend from next door had come round, wearing a rather interesting hat that makes him look like a spaniel. my boy's friend turned to my boy.

"can we go upstairs? she's scaring me!"

"i'm going to have 3 porn pies!" said my boy.

the mind boggles...

a most blogworthy day at the office

dear readers, today's photo has nothing whatsoever to do with my post, save for it being a collection of incongruous things. the thing that would have made a fabulous photo was unfortunately not captured on camera, due to a certain urgency about the proceedings which will become clear in due course.

on thursday herself had a rather tricky start to the day, having got stuck in traffic between my boy's college and her office. she was late for work and on the way into the building she got chewed by the lift doors. due to the lateness she had to cancel a meeting about hovercrafts in order to prepare for the afternoon's court hearing. no sooner had herself done this than her young colleague, whose office has a connecting door, came rushing in, all of a fluster.

"that is positively the last time i take the dog for a walk before work!" she fumed.

"what happened?" said herself, mindful of when the young colleague's dog had eaten a pigeon for breakfast and caused all sorts of cafuffle.

"come and look!" said the young colleague. herself went into the next door office. sitting under the young colleague's desk was a very sweet, very small, brown and white dog. herself works in a large, imposing town hall where people are not even allowed to bring their children to work, never mind their pets.

"i got locked out of my house when i took her out!" explained the young colleague. once herself and the very small brown and white dog had become acquainted herself went to fetch a drink of water for her from the watercooler. she had the presence of mind to put the water in a plastic cup rather than a bowl, to avoid giving the impression that the office had a canine visitor.

the very small brown and white dog settled down and, with a few near misses when colleagues came into the office, remained undiscovered until lunchtime. the young colleague then faced the problem of how to smuggle the very small brown and white dog out of the office. herself, ever the inventor, hatched a plan. or in fact several. the first one did not work. this was that the young colleague would wear herself's baggy coat and secrete the very small brown and white dog under it. this would have worked had the very small brown and white dog not wanted to peer out of the top. and had the young colleague not been rather more generously endowed in the chest department than herself, leaving considerably less room in the baggy coat.

plan b was slightly more sensible. the young colleague's room-mate has a rucksack. this was emptied out and the very small brown and white dog was placed inside. yet again her curiosity was a problem. the head sticking out of the top gave the game away. but herself came up with an idea. she smeared the inside of the plastic cup from the water cooler with peanut butter and placed it in the bottom of the bag. the small brown and white dog was occupied trying to lick it out and kept her head tucked in, thus being removed from the building without discovery.

the rest of the day was less eventful, save for herself getting into an argument with the security guard at the court when he insisted on keeping hold of her camera while she was in court. herself was reduced to spluttering in a pompous fashion about how she had been going to court for 20 years and had never had to hand over her camera, and about how everyone has cameras on their phones anyway.

luckily she had the sense not to berate him about how he had failed to discover her swiss army knife...

hoss chaos

dear readers, here you can see bonzo the hoss in his field. he is a most magnificent beast and herself has fallen in love with him. he has many funny ways, including a trick where if you tickle him under his chin he sticks out his very long tongue. he gently snuffles herself's face and when he is following her round the field he nods vigorously to let her know he agrees wholeheartedly with what she is doing.

on the riding front things have been less successful. herself has been riding since she was a child, but has not really gained much skill. about two weeks ago herself was gently pootling along the lane enjoying the sunshine. she came to an area of open country and having manoeuvred bonzo through the gate was pootling along the track. suddenly a wind came up out of nowhere. bonzo found this most disconcerting and galloped off, heading towards a very steep slope. herself tugged him round sharply to avoid catastrophe. however the saddle did not realise they were about to turn and slid down. it is not clear whether bonzo bucked before or after this happened but herself ended up on the deck. luckily bonzo is very fond of herself and came over when she called but due to his large size and bouncy nature there was no way of getting back on so herself had to walk home.

the next time herself rode, she decided to ride around the field first to settle bonzo down. he was rather on edge and showed this by galloping off and bucking herself off. this time she landed less gently. bonzo came over, shaking like a leaf, to see if she was ok. she was just about ok but very battered. luckily the peeps have plenty of heavy duty painkillers left from when himself had his kidney op so she managed to avoid completely seizing up but it was clear that bonzo would need a little more training before they ventured out again.

luckily the lovely man where herself used to ride is an expert in talking sense into wayward young hosses. so it was arranged that bonzo would go for a little holiday to his yard and herself would go along every day and learn how not to fall off. the lovely man is coming to collect bonzo on friday. and when bonzo returns he will have a little lady friend to share his field. he is clearly lonely and herself has been searching high and low to find a companion but until this week had no luck at all. the little lady friend is a shetland pony called libby. i am not sure what libby will make of the magnificent bonzo. at least she can shelter from the rain under him.

this afternoon herself went up to the field. before she got there she came across bonzo on the track, chatting to another hoss over its fence. luckily herself had a tow rope in the car, and also luckily she knows how to fashion a halter from a rope from her youthful days of riding other people's horses when they weren't looking. bonzo was persuaded to return to his own field. herself went into mrs collie's house and did her cleaning, peering out every now and again to check the errant hoss was in the correct place. when she had washed the floors she left, carefully locking up mrs collie's house. as she got out onto the track she saw bonzo down the track chatting to the hoss from earlier, just as though nothing had happened. herself was less than impressed with this as she had just spent over an hour sorting out the electric fence, getting a shock in the process.

bonzo was persuaded to return yet again with the promise of food. by now the light was going and it was raining hard. herself stood in the field wondering what to do. clearly she could not take bonzo home. we only have a small house and he is a large fellow. but equally clearly she could not contain him in the field. luckily there are some stables owned by mrs collie's neighbours. herself went round there. a lady was feeding her hoss and told herself that she had had to return bonzo to his field earlier, having witnessed him leaping out over the fence. this did not fill herself with joy. she had thought he had stepped over the fence after it fell down. it was not welcome news that he could jump.

"oh, no - he jumped out. he has a huge jump. i saw him last week jumping backwards and forwards over the electric tape that you put in to keep him out of the muddy patch!"

this hoss is clearly something of a comedian.

the lady who owns the stables arrived and after some discussion about worms and passports it was arranged that bonzo would board with them until friday. herself went to fetch him. he was most impressed with the facilities, apart from the geese, who he took a bit of a dislike to. herself had to rush off to fetch my boy from college and deposit him at home and then she returned to feed bonzo and put him to bed, finally getting home properly at 7pm.

all i can say is this hoss makes young dave look very well behaved indeed...