The Latest in Equine News

Dear Diary How much is it to hire a plane or at least get a seat on one (although to be fair in my case it would have to be a big seat)? I’ve decided that if English spring is going to continue with this abysmal lack of fight back against a winter, which is

Dear diary, OK, we all need to try harder. My GoFundMe page has clearly not raised sufficient funds to buy big enough balls for spring and frankly I think they’ve just given up. We had three days, THREE, where I thought they’d finally got with the programme. Admittedly they clearly had massive flatulence as well

Dear diary, I am setting up a GoFundMe page and I need your help. No, this is not, as you may all be guessing, a fund for my elopement/my vets bills/my solicitors bills or indeed anything to do with me; it’s to buy Spring some balls. Or maybe some new springs. But basically, something to

Dear Diary, Hoppy Easter to you all. I will be honest – I don’t understand the whole Easter thing; big bunnies supposedly hiding chocolate eggs all seems a little suspect to me. Sort of like a horse writing a book (or eight)… oh wait… I am not mentioning any lack of understanding, or indeed questioning

Dear diary, As I type, I’m pretty sure I might be featuring in several other online outlets and publications – unfortunately for me, less fan-type pages where people extol my brilliance, but more, for sale sites, where I suspect mother has suggested payment for me isn’t necessary… fair to say she doesn’t luff me right

Dear diary, It’s day 237,549 of winter. My feet are now developing webs and my ability to breathe underwater is now at least on a par with a whale. The last sighting of the sun was around the time mother could fit into single figure clothes sizes. The last time we actually managed seven days

Dear diary, Dare I say this actually out loud? Perhaps not. * Whispers * Ok, so who has finally managed to sooth the soul of the crazy weather woman? And more importantly, how? I’m thinking the sacrifice of several Welsh wazzocks and a vat of wine? Am I right? Whoever you are frankly you deserve

Dear diary, I am sad to report that my plan from last week didn’t work. I’m honestly not sure if you all merely paid lip service to my stunningly brilliant idea and didn’t wish to sacrifice the sh*tlands, or you just couldn’t catch the ankle biters, but I just don’t think we gave Mother Nature

Dear diary, Right, enough is enough. I am fed up to my still-amazing-and-frankly-the-only-part-of-me-that-still-works back teeth of this flipping rain. It’s as if someone has given Mother Nature a Guinness Book of World Records (other beers are available, I believe) and she’s trying to outdo herself every month. It’s about as funny as the mothership trying

Dear diary, I know that I am blind as a bat in my right eye, but I could have almost sworn I saw some blades of grass in among the sea of mud in the fields the other day. Now, I could have been wrong, and it could have been an Irish worm en-route to