I Love My Rosie!

Rosie and Donks (my " Horses ") live in a pen right now. I have to keep them in there so they'll give what little grass I have available for them a rest. No problem, of course. Many horses live their entire lives in stables, eating hay. And Rose, being a full blown Gypsy Cob can sure as hell put the hay away too! The buggers are getting through two square bales in twenty four hours just now! That's over £5.00 a Day to feed them!

Well, as I always say; No One ever told me a horse would be cheap to keep. Most of you run motors ~ with the attendant costs of petrol, tax, insurance and up keep. I have a horse.

And what a fucking lovely horse she is too. Only this evening I was proud as fuck of her, as she demonstrated just what these gorgeous Cobs are all about.

See, their pen comprises of a cattle yard and stalls. The stalls are a roofed over run where the cows would have been tied in their individual slots. These slots are separated by dividers. And the dividers are made of what ye'd see as scaffold bars. Exactly what ye might see used as hand rails on the steps of a big, public building in the city. These things are bought, pre made, and concreted in.

Only trouble is, the entire stalls were made for cows. Cow sized everything. And Rosie's a bit bigger than a cow. So it is that, when she's stood there, having a kip or just trying to get out of the monsoon, her bum sticks out just that bit. Only, perhaps, eight inches? But that means a horse with an almost permanently wet bum. This is not good. Obviously.

Being as I now Own the pen, I'm free to do what I like with it, of course. And that's why Dean O' was round this evening, with his petrol driven Stihl Saw. I wanted him to cut out every other of the half a dozen dividers.

That way, Rose can stand pretty much sideways on in the double sized stalls, see? Drink from the drinker in that stall. Feed from her feeder in the next. Even get in with Donks and just hang out with him in the end stall where Donks has always had to stand alone. Best of all; She can now do this with a completely dry bum. She's now 100% sheltered in there.

But, figure it out; This pen is just that. A Pen. Maybe three Rosie's wide and four Rosie's long? No more that a decent sized room then. To a horse, at least. And, into this room comes Dean O' and his Stihl Saw.

That. for anyone not recognising the name, is one of those gray and orange things with a big disc on the front. Blokes use them for cutting up shit like curb stones and paving slabs. Much roaring, screaming and dust. Touch one to steel and ye get a ten foot shower of sparks too. Dean O' hit the steel with the Stihl!

Shit and sparks are scooting out everywhere. The damn thing's screaming like a banshee. Engine's roaring. Donks has made a bolt for the furthest corner, found he couldn't go any further and has just elected to turn into a quivering wreck instead. Poor, daft sod.

Rosie? Initially, she caught Donks's reaction and she too moved to his corner. Effectively ~ wether by design or default ~ sheltering him from it all. Me? I just smiled and went over to them. Told Donks it was quite alright. Then gave Rose a pat and started talking to her in my usual manner. I chatted away to her and gave her a bare handed grooming as I did.

Know what? Through it all she just stood there, ears pointing at me - not the nightmare being created by Demonic Dean and his terrible tool. And, the moment Dean had finished the first set and was doing something quieter, like refuelling the cutter or what ever, she actually wandered over there to very closely inspect his handy work! Then, satisfied that he'd left no sharp protrusions? She got back to eating me out of hay and home!

Dean O' fired up for the next stall? Rosie simply walked calmly back to her position ~ again covering the nerve racked Donks ~ and we did the prior routine again. In fact, in summary? That beautiful, lovely, gorgeous fucking mare genuinely showed no more concern than to simply get herself out of the way of the action. Just as any sensible person would. I did! Only a cunt stands there amidst the shower of orange flack spewing out the back of a disc cutter.

But, no fear. No panic. No jumping around looking for a way out. This is a horse I'll be happy to get out on the road and go to town with. If That level of shit didn't bother her? Not much short of a space craft crash landing along the road beside us is liable to bother either!

And the reminds me; I must make a call tomorrow. See what the SP is on this Exercise Cart I've heard about is. Get my hands on that. Do what ever it might need doing to it. I'm still hoping to have her out on the road this 'Summer'.

I mean, hell; Would You pay a taxi a fiver a day, just to sit there in the damn rank?!