A close shave

Took James and Will for a walk yesterday in the blistering cold, but it was a lovely sunny afternoon and we were wrapped up to the nines after much bellyaching from both at being stuffed into pram suit/fleece respectively. Will was wearing his much loved boots and the concept of getting them muddy was initially appealing...until they actually did, at which all hell broke loose annd Will decided he was inconsolable at the soiling of his favourite footwear.

Typically he chose to melt down in the middle of a field of about 10 horses. I'd checked it out beforehand and decided they were far enough away for us to scoot across without causing too much disruption. Unfortunately by the time Will had kicked off the offending boots, I'd replaced them, he'd screamed blue murder at walking through anymore mud and been tucked under my arm, the horses decided to say hello and came thundering towards us at full gallop.

I haven't run so fast since the infamous 'Dobbin' incident of New Year's Eve 2004/05...with William blissfully unaware of the herd fast approaching and still weeping for his poor 'bootsies'.

So scary it was funny.

Comments

Lowly said…
Horses are maneaters...i'm tellin ya!

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