Hello my friends, and welcome to another exciting edition of the Gimli Gazette, where the literary world waits breathlessly to read what words of wisdom I will share with all humanity.
I begin this issue with a dramatic event which occurred last week. It was a rather hot day, so I was splashing around in my water barrel to keep cool. (I have asked Miss Mo and John for my own jacuzzi, but they have yet to deliver one to me. I plan to submit a written budget request for one at the next board meeting!).
After a few smacks of the barrel, I had moved it far enough out of the way so that I suddenly had access to my rope halter, hanging on my paddock fence. (Ranch staff foolishly try to keep it out of reach from me). I heard it call my name, so I went over to it for a little fun. The halter seemed to have a mind of its own. Before too long, I found it wrapped around my leg.
Many horses of inferior breeding would have gone into a panic and screamed in despair. Unlike them, I simply banged on the fence and sent a coded message for the Blacks to come and remove the offending halter from my leg.
Like the obedient servants that I’ve trained them to be, Miss Mo and John rushed to my paddock. Against the counsel of Miss Mo, John pulled out his trusty knife and cut the rope to free me (resulting in a useless halter). I now have on order a brand new halter that Miss Mo promises will be more in keeping with my skin tones. Color is very important to me, since my photo shoots require a color palate that will display properly on paper stock used around the world. No matter where the ranch staff decides to store my new halter, I will get to it and make it my own plaything!
And speaking of play, Ladyhawke learned a new trick this week. She approached me affectionately and managed to pull off my fly mask. Given that I ooze what I call Gimli Game, I am used to having the ladies come on to me whenever I am out in public. What I did not expect was what happened next. Ladyhawke took that fly mask and pooped in it. When Miss Mo saw this stunt, she called it “Epic!” I was not so amused. I will have my poop revenge on these two at a later date.
I finally got a question from one of my young riders. One of them asked, “How old are the horses in human years?” That is a good question. Connor is the oldest, being 29 horse years old, which translates into 83 human years. (We look to him to get all the senior discounts when we go out dining). Ladyhawke is 23, which makes her 68 in human years (I wonder if she collects social security?). And then there is yours truly, clocking in at 18 horse years, or 55 and a half human years. I am the horse with all the youth and vitality on the ranch.
I hope the children will start to send me more written questions. I answer all their verbal inquiries when I work with them during sessions, but it is nice to get fan mail and have the time to give reflective answers to their letters.
Well that’s all for this posting. I hope you are all staying cool in this summer heat.
Happy Trails,
Gimli June 13, 2024