So I was out in the pasture with my buds, having a good ole time...
Rolling in the mud, swishing at flies, chomping on green grass. Then, mom came out and said it was time to go to work.
She called me a filthy pig! Can you believe it? I get a little mud on me and she calls me names. So mean. She brushed and brushed and brushed and got most of the mud off then said I looked like a ragamuffin, an unwanted street urchin. Humpf. So maybe I need a haircut. So what?
Then she broke out the dumb hat. She says it makes me looks handsome. I think it makes me look like a dork. Or an Arab. I can't decide which is worse. Plus it keeps those horrible, painful deer flies off me. I like that part.
But Calypso and Chief snicker from the paddock and taunt me: "Your momma dresses you funny!"
They are not nice.
I mean, come on, mom, purple fringe and BEADS? Really? I'm a BOY!
Sooo embarassed. I can't even tell you.
We went for a ride and mom said I was GREAT! I was too mortified by the hat to call any attention to myself so I just did as I was told. Figured she was using the purple bead hat as some sort of cruel and unusual punishment for that last time I jumped around, acted like a yearling and tried to put her butt on the ground.
Apparently she wasn't kidding when she called me a filthy pig. I got the bubble bath treatment and everything. My tail is white again. But baths? Really? They are for the birds. No thanks!
At least she didn't make me get a haircut.
The best thing about working hard and bubble baths? Mom always lets me munch on the good clover-y grass after she's done fussing over me. Don't tell anyone, but I kinda like it. The fussing part, that is. I always like grass. Always!
She says I'm too fat. I prefer to think of myself as comfortably plump. That grass is goooood stuff!
She even trusts me enough now that she lets me wander around the yard while she puts all our stuff away. I'm a good boy that way. Besides, the grass and clover is best here.
And I know she has at least one more peppermint waiting for me in her pocket.