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Dear owner… — an open letter from your horse stating his New Year’s resolutions


  • Dear owner,

    I know I’ve been an awfully good boy this year – yes, we had that tiny disagreement about the water jump during that one-day event in the summer, but in my defence, I wasn’t convinced about the depth of the water, and that duck was giving me a really threatening look. And I suppose there was that time in the dressage where I bucked my way up the centre line, but I was just showing the judge how flexible I am. Anyway, the good news is that it is actually possible to improve on perfection, and that’s why I’ve come up with the following New Year’s resolutions…

    1. I will help you lose the extra weight you’ve gained over Christmas (I’m carrying those mince pies too, you know) by becoming your personal trainer. I’ll ensure you run several laps of the field each day trying to catch me, while I skip about, just out of reach, chanting motivational slogans. You won’t be able to understand them as you don’t speak ‘horse,’ and will probably just think I’m whinnying like a nutter, but that works both ways as I only speak limited ‘human.’ Which reminds me, what does ‘comebackrightnowyoulittlegit’ actually mean in your language?

    2. I will show off all my flashiest working trot next time you take me to a show. OK, so it’ll be because I’ve broken free in the lorry park and am showing off to a very attractive young filly I’ve spotted, but I’m an artist and I can’t control when the urge to express myself may strike. Picasso said that, you know. (Picasso the racehorse, that is.)

    3. I’ll help you with the tiresome chore of mucking out my stable by hiding all my poos in the shavings. In fact, I’ll go one better and poo in my water bucket. Cleanliness is next to godliness as they say, which practically makes me a saint.

    4. I won’t let you be intimidated by that person who comes and shouts at us once a week. She’s obviously trying to break your spirit – I can feel you practically sobbing on my back as the evil torturer yells ‘That’s not a 20-metre circle!’ for the eleventy billionth time. It’s my job to protect you from such unnecessary cruelty. If necessary, I’ll jump out of the arena.

    5. I’ll practise my showjumping skills by jumping repeatedly out of my field. If I’m really clever, I can combine this with New Year’s Resolution number one, and exercise you at the same time. You’re welcome.

    Love,

    Skippy

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