I Hate Hoomans! part 1.

I have been working hard on a competition run by KSP Writers’ Centre and the City of Mandurah called “Story Horse”.  I was trying to edit it down from 2175 words down to 2000 which is what I thought I remembered the limit was.  I cut it down to 2069 and then corrections brought it up to 2200.  Before I tried again I decided to double check.  Maybe the limit was 3000.  It was 800.  I looked at my story and gave up.  I wrote a humourous (hopefully) 799 words using the same characters but a happier day.

What do I do with 2200 random words about horses?

Guess!

By Horace I hate hoomans!

Well, not that hoomans mare that calls herself  Mummy; or her hoomans stallion, even if he is a bit smug; cuddling up to me as if I were his colt.  He seemed to think I was not a threat because I’m gelded, and she’s a hoomans and she’s carrying his foal, okay he’s right.  And any hoomans stallion that is both right and is usually carrying carrots is alright with me. I love Mummy; she pays attention to what I want.

Excuse my rudeness, I haven’t even introduced myself I am Ramirez, but no one calls me that.  Some daft hoomans vaulterer filly decided I looked ‘sparky’ years ago and I’ve been called Sparky ever since.  For Horace sake I’m a grown pony and I’m expected to answer to Sparky.  And it ruins the catchy “Ramirez and Ronaldo” team name my brother and me used; I really liked that.  At least he still gets called Ronnie which is approximately his name; I suppose.  How would Coach Whip like it if I called her something random, like Judy?  Some of the vaulterer fillies call her Judy but they can get away with anything.  A vaulterer is a hoomans that is supposed to take care of the hoomans vets, us even though the new ones don’t do it right, and they wander around making sure the riders don’t fall off.  Hard job I don’t think so!

I know what I said but don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining about the riders.  The riders may all be hoomans but riders are my job. You see I am a hoomans vet; all of us here are hoomans vets.  They bring broken hoomans, foals mainly but some grown and we treat them.  We carry them around and let them hug us and that makes them healthier.  We are really good at it!  It is a real buzz to see the riders getting better, and to see their dams and sometimes even the sires watch happily form the hoomans stable, even if Ole Coach or now Coach Whip hog all the credit.

So it is important not to bite the riders!  It’s hard to tell how broken they are, so even the really loud pretending we are machines ones shouldn’t be bitten, or kicked, not even a little bit.

Once Ronnie started biting one of the nice rider/ vaulterer fillies on the arm, he says he started as a joke but she didn’t move.  So he kept nibbling to try and find out how much of her arm she couldn’t feel.  It turned out she could feel her arm but though Ronnie was enjoying chewing her and didn’t want to stop him.  We were really mad at Ronnie.

The rider/ leader was one of the broken herd, riders but  a rare new type that groom & lead with the vaulterer filly herd, but they act more like their dam; not Mummy or Ole Coach standard but nice enough.  Marvel, a usually uppity black horse, had worked really hard on her dam (sad ain’t it a whole herd broken) and she has turned into a useful hoomans vaulterer and brought her stallion in.  Their sire is the vaulterer that makes the water all fresh and tasty and he is okay too.  He’s affectionate enough and only when we want, he feeds us molasses mix sometimes along with those well trained mare and fillies of his. His fillies are all good riders, you know squeaky little poppet things that don’t pretend we are machines; they kiss us, use our names and pat us.  And my brother bit one of them, even though the dam is his version of Mummy, talking to him, grooming him, taking him places.

Not bored to death yet?  Try part 2.

BTW Thanks Graphic Stock!