24/12/2025
Ok. We all know that one of my main jobs in life is falling over, right? Usually it's the knees that get it as I slam into the slabs although this year there was also the bruised forehead and huge black eye, courtesy of the bully of a big rake and quite recently... well, last Thursday to be exact, there was the leap of faith to avoid being trampled by Frankie, who was clearly on a mission, which led to an attack by a loop of rogue spreading bramble stem looped around my foot. I launched myself back to the path and landed splat on my nose!
Apparently, however, it was decided that this job was no longer mine alone.
On Monday morning, all horses fed and hayed, I released them before washing out the buckets.
No one wanted to leave the hay boxes and peace was all around...until the Maggie incident.
It started off quite innocently. The horses began their daily game of musical hay boxes. Maggie stopped at the centre box and began to scoff the hay. Unfortunately, Frankie didn't stop at the box before the centre box. He wanted the one after the centre box. Maggie, one eye on the hay and the other on Frankie stood stock still. Frankie failed to notice the flattened ears and proceeded to creep passed her back end on tip toes. Suddenly, Maggie lifted one back leg, snatching it from the ground and tucking it up high.
Frankie spotted the speedy movement and PANIC!!! One fore leg took off in canter, the other tried walk, a hind leg tried trot whilst it's team mate stood still. The result was all four legs gave up and Frankie went splat!!! (mud can have it's uses.) Within seconds he was back on his feet, scurrying past the Boss, to the safety of the hard standing beyond the centre box where he attacked the hay with a vengeance. Maggie, pleased to see her supremacy was still respected, gave a loud snort and settled down to munch the hay in a very relaxed manner.
Such is life at Foll's Field.
