If Only They Knew

It never ceases to surprise to me, that those who stand in front talking ‘at me’, assume I understand what they are saying. It annoys me when they stop and look at me as if I am some type of alien. Worse still are those who insist on stopping and rubbing my nose whilst uttering incomprehensible drivel! I often wonder how they would feel if I suddenly said, “Oh shut up you moron.” That would give them something too talk about.

Yesterday I was minding my own business, just standing in my paddock soaking up the summer warmth, when someone called out to me. I turned and was confronted by a green haired, multi tattooed visage with a child.

As she stopped, I noticed the rings through her nose. Must be where they attach her bridle. She hauled the terrified child out of its carriage, sat it on the fence and waved at me whilst holding up something in one hand.

Curious as to what she wanted, I ambled over and snuffled the object she held out. A carrot, a bloody carrot. Some people have no imagination. I detest carrots. I am horse, not a bloody rabbit!

Not satisfied with trying to poison me, she then proceeded to ramble on to the clearly terrified child, who wailed at the top of its lungs, suddenly went red faced and began to smell funny. I took a step back, raised my head regally and spoke to them in my own language. They looked at me as if I was stupid. I stepped forward and nudged the child on its nose. After all, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, is it not?

Apparently not. The child became apoplectic flailing legs and arms, still screaming at the top of its voice. The tattooed visage began using words I only ever heard when my owner had trouble getting a bridle on me. She threw the carrot at my face, dragged the child from the fence and stomped off, yelling dark threats in my direction.

If Only They Knew

I watched them go. I looked down at the apple the child had dropped. Yummy, time for a snack. It was going to be a warm day.