The farrier came today. I saw him get out of his little black car with his wooden box and large flat hoof file, so I made myself as small as possible behind the tree with the haynet. I think they could still see me, so I made a break for it and checked out the electric fence. It was on! *buzz!* So i ran and hid in the pine trees ( Read more... )

My sad-faced owner was tricking me. Either that or driven to nasty behavior by sadness. I don't care, either way! I was looking out over the fence, enjoying some quiet time alone with Willow locked into his stupid-horse house, when up came my owner, calling for me and waving it's arms, running in and out of my stable, just to jump around in front ( Read more... )

My owner has a very sad face lately. I had a sad face, once, too, when my friend Star was visited by the vet and never woke up again. I'm not sure if I'm a nice horse, but even I don't want people to have sad faces, so I've stopped dragging them across the stable when they come in with the hay, and I try to look extra happy when my owner looks out ( Read more... )

It's been ages since I wrote in my journal, cause, you see, I went and hurt my hoof. I was kicking Willow for tugging on my rug, when a stone stuck into the sole of my foot and made a hole there. Then dirt got in and it got badly infected. The Owners came and made me stand in a bucket of water, but I was in too much pain to bite much, made a feeble ( Read more... )

What a busy week. To start with, somewhere around Wednesday night, a fat red person pulled up in a trailor towed by deer, and proceeded to walk past my stable door with a shiny new traffic cone. Quite certain it had come with no good intentions (no brandishing of buckets, to begin with), I ate it. The Owners found out in the morning, as I had ( Read more... )

1. What is your name(s)? Harvey, or Mister H to you, amongst other ridiculous "pet" names put on me by The Owners ( Read more... )

* Date you joined? I stole this. It had my name on it. I tracked down the real owner over the course of a year, found it in Dublin after wandering the hard streets and eating bus drivers and hitchikers and leftover crisp packets, and intimadated this person into letting me have the journal. It was a strangely familiar human. It also stole my invite ( Read more... )

The Bucket SongHarvey had a bucket ( Read more... )

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There is no grass to be had. It's a sad time of year for me and my field mate. My birthday is passed, and I only got a pack of Jaffa Cakes. Later, when all the biscuits were eaten, my owner came by with a big metal model of a horse's head, and showed it to me and started to pat me and tell em I was great. Then she showed me another one of those red ( Read more... )