My Funny Valentine, Sweet Comic Valentine…

Dear Jane,

Ahem. It is Valentine’s Day.

I find it quite unacceptable that you have not come to see me.
You claim to love me. It’s Valentine’s Day. Do the math.

Strike that. I will do the math for you. I do not trust the human public education system.

If L = mass of love claimed, and V = 1/365, Then G would represent a ‘floating’ factor, giving us an equation that looks something like this:

(L + V) x a factor of G136*= 20 pounds of carrots, minimum.

*(please assume guilt to the 136th power)

If you must be away, consider this word carefully: delivery.

I am not asking for carrots in a red, heart-shaped box, or a dozen long-stemmed carrots nestled in white baby’s breath. The manifestation of your love for me does not have to be fancy, pretty, or expensively arranged. It only need be pleasantly edible.

I’m a simple, industrial-plastic kind of guy.

Perhaps the visual aid below, of what I look like when off-roading, will jog your memory:


Please get the guy from Palace of Fruit to schlep the sack to my paddock.

Humph. I bet Woodrow gets cookies. I bet Bella scratches his back.

I bet Bella shows up.


P.S. Miss Smokey would appreciate a can of tuna for padding this out on the keyboard. Put it on my expense account.

15 thoughts on “My Funny Valentine, Sweet Comic Valentine…

  1. Hudson,

    I feel your pain. I wasn’t feeling the love either. Instead, I found myself squashed between masses of bad BO rush hour people on the metro. Haven’t people heard of the concept of deodorant? How about a bath? Sheesh. And all the women wearing white tights with embroidered polka hearts. Don’t they know how unattractive human legs are? Not like horse legs, of course. Maybe Jane was stuck in that smelly metro, too.

    Of course, I went straight home and ate a carrot to cheer myself up. It’s not 20lbs, but the emotionally abused are left with scraps to take.

    . The Other Jane

  2. Hudson,
    You have overlooked the most important part of the equation:

    If H=a boy (or a former boy, in your case) and J = a girl, then your math is backwards. The way that Valentine’s day gifts are calculated around here, H gives gifts to J in celebration of love and/or services rendered. (Beetpulp is a service which is rendered, btw. It’s in the contract). When I run the numbers, it appears that you are at least 60 pounds of carrots in arrears to Jane.

    By the way, F= a girl (a former girl, in my case) and A=also a girl, so the 20 pound bag of carrots in the feed room will be split between me and my mama…but she only eats a few each day, and the rest are for me.

    Neener neener.

    If you ever came to visit, I would share. —Fiddle

    1. I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. “Super funny” is sarcasm, correct?
      I’m sure Murphy and Barbie got THEIR 20 pounds.
      Happy Valentine’s Aunt Daisy. For the record, Barbie can room with me any day. She is my niece, after all. And I might actually get a carrot if she did.

  3. Hudson, you mean you don’t get 20 pounds of carrots EVERY DAY? You need to work that guilt thing more! I have my human extremely well trained, although I’ve had her for 17 years.

    Try making your pathetic starving face more often. It always works for me!


    1. Sadly, no. I’m lucky if I get a carrot a day. Jane believes hand feeding me makes me ‘mouthy’. I ask you, is it wrong to keep looking for more, as underfed as we are? Of course not. I don’t bite. I consider myself competently annoying. As I should be. Jane is on to my pathetic face. I go for the ‘I can’t quite reach’ in the carrot stretches. That usually ups the amount, as she ‘tries’ to get me to stretch farther and farther. (Just FYI, for those whose humans have no pity for our suffering. This is a good one.)

  4. Hey Hudson, I hear you. It’s like the servants don’t realize that it really is all about us! I have found though, that since I moved to where my servant is in the next barn (she calls it a house- go figure!) her attention has improved immeasurably. I now get my rightly deserved bed time carrot. I’ve trained her male companion to give me a carrot every time he comes into the barn. He’s much more trainable then her, I have to say!

    Sincerely, Irish

    PS- Can you tell me how you did the math? please??? I’m sure I can use it later
    Hungry for snacks

    1. Dear Irish, of course! The basic equation for HUGE amounts of carrots:
      (your human’s professed) Love x Holiday always = 20lbs of carrots, minimum. You can add in a floating factor of Guilt to the nth power. (this is where the power factoring comes in: it’s only 1 day out of 365, so you get to add as much guilt as you feel your human should carry.) Remember to convince your human that you have no idea what a ‘calender’ is. They need to believe we don’t understand there are other holidays that can be substituted for the V – or H – in the above equation.
      yours in gastronomic solidarity,
      (good luck!)
      ps: don’t foget we can make up our own holidays. ‘Irish’ day is a good one. National Mud Awareness Day is a great one for a hot bran mash…

  5. the key is to have your human at your own place. That way she can’t ignore you. ever. And if there’s not enough attention then you find a way to bring it – like ripping off a blanket or gnawing on fence posts…..

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