Warning fart

TW bought the gang in and tacked me up. Bitless. Nice. On she hopped and off we toddled. I wasnt keen. In the village she spotted our shadow and realised smething was wrong. Bleddy Nobber had only forgotten her hat. Off she jumped. Back to the yard , hat on and off again. Jeez Louise.

Snorty snorty, stretch stretch. TW decided I obviously don't like Sundays.

Through the brambles , ooh flat field, all mown. Wee trot, snort snort. TW wanted to go all around it but thought better of it. Into the other field. Omfg it looked amazing!!!!

TROT!!! TW practised trying to slow my trot with her rising. It was interesting. Trot then walk. Trot then walk. Every so often I got a really speedy one in. Lush!

Around we turned. Trot. FARTTTTTTTTT!! TW panicked! She knew what I was thinking. A bleddy good Bucky canter! She made me behave. Booooooo!! She needs to be brave I reckon. That grass was perfect. Maybe next time?

My little mucker Tom isn't so good at the moment. He's all confused and TW is sad and worried. Brack had a wee word in my shell like and suggested that I might have to do a bit more work for a while. Hmmmmmm. Is this good news?