Sorry For the Interruption, I Need to Get a Few Things Straight With Jane

Dear Jane,

I must resort, once again, to hacking into your blog to communicate with you.

Why can’t you read minds? Humans.  So developmentally impaired.

On Worming:

  1. I fail to see the humor in worming paste.
  2. You squirt nasty paste in my mouth, put me out on grass, and hope I won’t remember an hour later? Daisy is correct: I am still pissed. (I hacked your texts too.) It gave me more time to plan my retaliation over a leisurely snack.
  3. If you come back smelling like Barbie, retaliation turns into revenge: you hoped I’d forget, and went to visit another horse? I don’t think so.
  4. I hate it when you pull the “Gentleman” card. You told that cute red mare’s mom I was a complete gentleman.  Now I have to wait to retaliate until red mare is out of sight.

On Riding:

  1. Don’t. It’s not pretty.
  2. If you insist, could you please sit straight?
  3. I. Am. A. Saint. If I give you a hard time, it’s because YOU are driving the Saint insane.
  4. Fine. I give you points for not correcting me when you screw up.
  5. Okay. Points for trying. And I admit, you do listen.
  6. I don’t feel like running until I’m saddled and finished yawning. What’s the fun of running in turnout?  I like the company. It’s more fun if we do it together. (BTW, what is a “Migraine”, and why should I care?)
  7. It’s highly unfortunate that I am a Gentleman, I can’t in good conscience retaliate. It’s the curse of having principles. See #1 above.


  1. I might like the OCD grooming. Don’t let it go to your head.
  2. Who knocked up Barbie?  (Of course I know, I have a superior sense of smell.)
  3. We need to move. I practically raised Barbie, I need to oversee our foal’s education.
  4. If you fed me more, my neck wouldn’t be sore. I’m constantly, desperately, searching for food.  I have to twist my neck to get through all the obstacles between my stomach and the green stuff.
  5. I hate your grass destroyer.  HATE.
  6. I’ll try to say this delicately: check the bathroom scale.
  7. Yeah, you failed in the leaping from horse to horse thing.  You surprised me.  I didn’t think you had a ounce of daring. I’m rather proud of you for trying. Can we do that again?  (Lose the spurs, and no boots please).
  8. FYI, if you don’t want me to bite, don’t use a girth. Even gentlemen lose their tempers under torture.
  9. I need a massage. And grass. Hey, I heard you can trailer-in to the race track, and they’ll let you breeze during the off hours. Can we go?

Dinero and I have a request.  Please put a steer in our paddock. We’re, uh…lonely. We need a…pet.  Preferably a fast…pet.



11 thoughts on “Sorry For the Interruption, I Need to Get a Few Things Straight With Jane

  1. Duuuuuuuuuude. After you free the hot pregnant chick, can you guys head East? The humans haven’t turned me out in two weeks. Two weeks, man. Do you know what that’s like? Do they think I am going to melt or something? They keep staring at my right hock and muttering to themselves, and I have been wearing wraps (you know how freakin annoying those things are) on my hind legs for like a month. And I feel fine. Not a darn thing wrong with me. My mom’s cool and all, but I’m way sick of living in my stall. Hello, it’s green grass season? It’s time to get the heck out of Dodge. You with me?

    p.s. — Really looking forward to meeting Barbie. She’s totally my type. I could get into the whole single mom thing. Put in a good word.

  2. SHHHHHHHHHHH. Hudson- it’s me Barbie. Come break me out of jail!
    They have cameras on me!! What happened to privacy?? Dont be afraid when you see me…I have gained some…errr….um…weight. Maybe you could take me to an aerobics class? Sometimes I sweat….my doctor says it might be the baby (WHAT IS A BABY?!) moving.
    I will pay you in FOOD! I have TONS in my jail cell. I think the time during the day when I am out in a paddock next to the immature yearlings is the best time to come break me out. No cameras and they aren’t as wise as us. Come QUICK!

    1. Whoa Barbs…the doc said BABY?
      Okay, Plan B.
      As soon as Auntie Bella is well, I’m leaping into the trailer and we’ll come get you.
      If you still want to leave. Um you see, you might want to stay?

      Ah…um…remember when Daisy was waaaaay taller than you and had to bend over to halter you? Like a kazillion years ago? Um. You were a baby. There’s this stork? And uh…well…you know how you think you’re fat? There’s a little tiny you inside you. (I think this is supposed bring you joy.) You made a copy of yourself (good thinking, BTW) and when the copy is finished, it’s going to come out of your tummy – no wait, it’s not coming OUT of your tummy, it’s leaving your tummy and coming out…
      Never mind.
      You’re going to feel like you’re colicking. It’s not colic, it’s the copy sort of unadhearing. The tiny copy of you magically appears once you’re over the fake colic. The copy is called a baby. You have to love it and feed it. Remember how I taught you to like the trailer, and going to see all those drunk cowboys? It’s sort of your job to teach the baby how to eat and sleep and uh behave around humans.

      It’s not a jail cell. It’s a hotel room to keep you comfortable, and cameras to alert humans so the colic-feeling part gets over faster.

      Trust me, you don’t want to do this in the field with a bunch of geldings standing around.

      But I always have your back. Say the word, I’ll come get you.

      (Daisy, you didn’t TELL her?!?)

      1. Errrr. No. I didn’t explain. HOWEVER, it’s now official if I ever have two legged children for sure you will be the one to explain the birds and the bees!

  3. I think that Pippin might have gotten his size 2’s on my computer to respond to Hudson. There seems to be a bit of… manure?! Yeechh – not between my computer keys!
    I am ashamed to admit that I agree with Hudson on some of the riding issues. I really need to make sure that I’m not getting in Pippin’s (or Doc’s) way. Point taken, Hudson!

  4. Hudson, this is Pippin, here. I’m with you on many of your points. I’ve got your back if you ever need support. (Doc is nodding his head in agreement.)
    We’d like to advocate for more grass time and I totally understand the neck thing. My knees also get sore from getting down on them and then trying to stretch my head under the fence to get just a few blades of the green stuff.
    Should we come up with a list of demands… or do you think it would just piss them off?

    1. Nice to meet you, Pippin and Doc.
      I think we have the potential to start a…grass roots…campaign here.
      An Equine Manifesto? I mean, come ON. No horse in this day and age should be down on his knees struggling for a few blades of grass. I say we try. There’s a little secret they think we don’t know. It doesn’t matter if they get pissed off: we’re big. Really big.

      I have discovered we are larger than humans! I’m writing up an anthropological treatise on this, but it’s slow going with hooves.

      I wonder if I can order Dragon Dictate online? I bet I could hack Jane’s credit card number….(and she thinks I never listen. I’m telling you, looking bored is our greatest strength.)

  5. Hudson, if Jane puts a steer in your paddock, you would just run the poor thing to death. And then Jane would have delicious hamburgers and steak to eat, thereby possibly adding to the “check the bathroom scale” issue. You might want to rethink that request.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s