Hovis’ Friday diary: ‘I haz muchos de news to tell you all...’

Dear Diary

So muchos de news to tell you all. Starting with the important news of my new book! The ninth in my incredible series, the new installment picks up where my last book Hovis’ Friday Diary: Laughter, Lameness and Lockdowns left off and will see all my antics right through to me being the official supporters mascot for British Eventing at the 2024 Paris Olympics…which I might have mentioned before? In passing maybe …

As always all the money from the book, every last little penny, will go to charity with neither me nor the mothership taking a penny. We are excited and proud to announce that we will be exclusively launching the new book Hovis’ Friday Diary: What’s the story, Medal Glory at the cult event Your Horse is Alive on 9-10 November.

I absolutely love Your Horse is Alive and we are so thrilled to be asked again – it will be a great opportunity for you to grab a selfie, a snog, some merch… and unfortunately the chance to be in close proximity to the mothership and team. As always there may be some other exciting things happening, but that’s all like hush hush so come and find out – let us know if you’re going so we know how many security personnel I need to request on my rider… some of you are slightly scary and I need adequate levels of protection…

Last Friday saw Cool New Shoes Man come to give me and the orange hued horror a pedicure. The mothership had been injected for kissing spines the day before so was so pitiful even CNSM gave her a cuddle. I was quite worried he’d gone soft until he then posted on my facebook pages pointing out that she is far older and more broken than I am. He has always found himself wildly amusing and when it comes to absolutely mercilessly extracting the urine from mother, I have to agree.

I showed my appreciation for his quick witted humour by leaning adoringly on him, only to have him get all embarrassed and breathless – honestly, I know that being close to equine royalty can be overwhelming, but I genuinely do worry when he’s going to get over it. Barbie Boy was under strict instructions not to eat any more of CNSMs braces after his dental dexterity last time resulted in mother dive bombing his mouth trying to get metal out and CNSM being in dire danger of losing his trousers for the rest of the day…

Barbie Boy was fidgeting about like a politician in donated pants and licking CNSM man like a fat fighter on 2mm of chocolate on a rice cake so it’s fair to say his ancestry and parentage was called into question more times than facts in a Trump speech – needless to say I stood like a rock (albeit a leaning, snuggly one…).

In thanks for me being a well behaved pilar of society, Crazy Self Employed Lady whipped me in the other night and robbed me of all my hard grown hair such that my yearly transformation from manly orange-in-the-wrong-light to seal pup grey is complete. I have always been the poster child for GreenPeace – specifically sponsor to the “save the mother whale” campaign – and this time of year sees that linkage look even stronger.

Mother did in fairness save my feather as CSEL suggested “blending” my legs; having witnessed a similar suggestion on my mane, which led to me needing to hide in a bush for six weeks whilst the inch-long mohawk grew back, mother respectfully declined this suggestion and issued a no fly zone over my feather area.

So the book is nearly ready, Your Horse is Alive is ready, my haircut is ready, the question is, are you?

Laters,
Hovis

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