Riding dirty

Today I woke up at 6am in expectation of riding/walking my horse on the moors. It's cold, wet, dark and early... I pull my leggings over my goose bump-covered legs. My woolly hat over my little cold ears and a lumberjack shirt over my still half-asleep torso. Still, expecting my horse to be rideable.

Well HORSE!! You really let me down! If you weren't so bloody beautiful I'd have to hit you.
My horse, George, ended up being lame..very lame... which means I wasn't able to ride, we weren't even able to talk him for a walk. He walked out of his stable limping! I could easily believe he was faking it! Drama queen.

so.... instead of having a lovely walk on the moors as the sun rose I had to clean out his shitty stable, soak his hay, brush his muddy body and make his bed!! While he stood outside watching me. Fluffy bugger.

If I don't get to ride before I go back to Southend I shall be very disheartened.

As I waited for my mother to take him to his field, I went all OCD on his bed and it ended up looking like this....

Like I said, OCD. Pointless I know, as he will have only walked into it tonight and kicked it about.
Sleep tight fluffly four hooves.