First of all, I need to thank my mom for helping me with this blog. I am not sure what a blog is exactly, but it seems like a lot of fun and I get to talk to my many fans out there (and I know I have many because an aweful lot of people have said they love me in the last 18 years, so I must). Mom is typing this for me because my hooves don't work well on human keyboards and I don't think the makers at Sony, as good as they are, have created a keyboard for horses.
In this blog (what a strange word humans made up for this thing) I will talk to you--through my mommy--about all things related to being a horse. I can't speak for other horses much since they have their own personalities and thoughts but I might still gossip a bit about them from time to time.
If you don't know me, I was born as a little black and white colt on a farm in Colchester, CT. I was too young to remember what their intentions were for me, but I do remember when I was 2 years old, the veterinarian came (I have a true phobia for those guys!) and I was asleep and when I awoke I felt differently.
Before the veterinarian came, everything seemed fun and the fillies were especially fun to sniff and look at. I remember feeling wild and wanting to chase every other horse (exept the fillies, I wanted to catch them) away. The fillies, they were mine!
Time passed and I realized what they did calmed my demeanor and made me not notice the fillies quite so much. I must admit it is a lot less frustrating than always wanting those pretty girls but never being able to have them. I was a stallion after all (was being the operative word).
I still do not like veterinarians! They always have needles!
As I grew older my fur color began to change. My mom (my biological mom), I remember was a pretty grey quarter horse named Sonoita Chubby. I later discovered the Sonoita line is famous for producing very beautiful horses that win a lot in conformation and other areas of horse shows. I cannot be sure of the details, but mom tells everyone she meets how gorgeous I am and that I get my looks from my champion line.
I never saw my sire. And I have no human dad, so I guess that makes me the adopted child of a single mom. But that's ok because mom takes amazing care of me and I can feel how much she loves me, and I winnie to her whenever I hear her voice.
I will write more tomorrow. I have to tell mom all my exploits at night and during the day so she can write this every day and keep anyone who is interested up to date on the life of being a horse. Sounds boring to me, but humans sure she seem to love us horses, as least from what I see at the barn where I live now in Bolton!
Good night, and neigh in your sleep!
LOVE THIS
ReplyDelete