You want me to do what?

My name (one of many it seems) is Hamish - I am an Irish horse who wants a quiet life. I only see my Mum at weekends, but really, that's not good, as she should not be left unsupervised. She gets us into trouble. Apparently she needs to work to keep me in Polos, but it seems she has time for other things.....but more of that later.

I came into my Mum's life in 2010, as a happy hacker to help give my Mum some fresh air while her husband, Ian, was undergoing chemotherapy. We had great fun blasting round the stubble fields, and I started to train her nicely. If the treats were too slow, for example, I ate her pockets. She really is quite a quick learner. I was pleased with her progress.

When Ian got better, things changed, and apparently I was to be a dressage horse. No problem, I humoured her - and the polos increased. So this is where I thought my life was heading. Being dressed up with lots of sparkles, then 5 minutes in an arena, I decided it was worth the humiliation of "bling", for the polos. It seemed a fair deal.

But now this. Apparently I have to get fit (well, she has WAY more work than I have to on that score) - and start jumping again, and eventually, in one day, I have to do the poncy bit, then jump over some scary fences, and then, canter and jump and not roll in the water (she was very clear about that...) - for miles. ALL IN ONE DAY.

So, I was about to tell Mum she needed to rethink - but then she told me about Hannah. What can I say? She had me there. So, we are to become wobbleberries. The name must just apply to her of course - nothing wobbly about me (really, you can't count avoiding scary fences as wobbles - I just have to look after us both, I am MUCH better at monster spotting).

All I can say is the polos better start being delivered in wheelbarrows.

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