June 20th

I took my friend Karen into hospital for her radiation treatment.

Karen is giving bone cancer the thrashing of its life.

She’s amazing, she’s pummeling it with positive thinking, radiation and laughter and I for one think she’s going to win.

After her treatment, she said she felt like shopping (as you do) so we hit the Mall.

When I go shopping, it usually takes about ½ an hour because I only buy one thing and it’s usually something I desperately need.

We were in that Mall for about 4 hours. We started by fueling up with a hearty lunch. I was the official bag handler. I felt like Paris Hilton by the time we left.

“I think I need that”, said Karen, pointing to a beautiful lacy top, “and that”, she said to pointing to another the same but in a different colour, “and that”.

Then we found some gorgeous woolen trousers, you could buy one pair and get another for half price! “Oh I have to do that”, said Karen, “It’d be rude not to”, I agreed.

“It’s been ages since I felt like shopping”, she sighed blissfully handing over the money for a beautiful camisole and a woolen jacket. “I see there’s been a recession in the Mall – just look at all the ‘Sale’ signs”, she said. “Don’t worry Shop Keepers” she yelled as I dragged her out the door, “I’m back”.

June 21st

Hoof Hefner received a brand new jacket. It’s a lovely double breasted fitted number in ‘Airforce Blue’.
He’s very pleased with it. Having paraded around the paddock, he hoofed it down to the Mares to brag about his time as an Air Force horse.

“Air force Blue” scoffed Persil, “Like he’s ever even been near an airplane”.
Phantom stomped a foot sulkily, “that clobber would have suited me better,” he said.
I promised him a new jacket as soon as I could afford it.
" With a pocket?” he asked.
I gave him the raised eyebrow look “A pocket? What does a horse need a pocket for?”
“Sugar lumps”, he said, I’d learn new things more efficiently and be a much better behaved horse”.

He’s been reading my horse psychology books.

June 22nd

I noticed The Phantom sneaking past the window on the wrong side of the fence as I pulled the curtains back this morning.
He sidled down the fence line and headed casually towards the open gate. Every so often he checked back and looked towards the windows hopefully, before taking advancing forward.

I’d forgotten to turn the fence on and The Phantom is very good at testing for power and lifting the line up to sneak under it when the power is off. This is what he had done and now he was waiting to see if I had noticed.

I had.

I grabbed my gumboots and wandered across the paddock to stop him before he made it out the gate.  He saw me and started walking very purposefully towards the gate and through it and off down the road. Nibbler and Persil were watching but not moving.

Being, essentially, a very lazy horse, and not having the other horses to race with, The Phantom stopped and waited for me to catch up. “Fair Cop Guv”, he said, using Nibbler’s line, followed by “you wouldn’t happen to have a carrot on you would you, I’m famished”.

I didn’t.

We walked back to join the other horses, “That took exactly 10 minutes from the time you walked past the window to time of capture”, said Nibbler, “Your turn now Persil, lad, and let’s see how far you can get before being nabbed”.

The horses are placing bets on how long it takes me to get up the road.

This explains everything.

June 23rd

I was going to start my diet today.
I really was.

But I happened to switch on the television at lunch time to catch the news and caught instead a program about a girl with a mixture of anorexia and bulemia.
A skeletal image of a young woman lodged itself in my mind. You could see every rib; she looked like she had died about 3 weeks ago.

And it all started with a diet…it was enough to have me running for the chocolate.

June 24th

Poor Zeuss has a touch of Bronchitis.

It started off as a ‘man-cat’ cold, he was miserable and off his food, preferring to stay wrapped up in his papoose in front of the fire all day. On the third day there was still no improvement so I took him off to see the vet.
He was quiet all the way in, snoozing in his ‘cat seat’.

“I feel Sick”, he said, “I think I’m going to die”, he murmured. I was pretty worried about him.

His recovery was instant and miraculous. It occurred about the same time the vet approached him with a thermometer. “You’re not coming near me with that thing” he bawled.
“Bronchitis”, said the vet, “he’ll need to be rehydrated”.
They took him into the surgery to do this while I waited in the main room.
The room was full of people and their demure pets; it was all very quiet and peaceful when suddenly the peace was broken by a litany of foul language floating down the hall from the rehydration room.

A Siamese cat in full voice is something indeed and Zeuss is no exception. He was shouting insults at everything and everyone.
Finally a slightly flustered looking vet came out with Zeuss in his cage.
“He is certainly a very talkative young man”, said the vet, “he had a lot to say about his treatment”.

We drove home. Zeuss may have been talkative in the clinic but he wasn’t talking to me now.
I tucked him back into his papoose and kissed him. He rolled his eyes back in his head and coughed weakly.

Flossom sashayed past, “They took his temperature didn’t they?” she smirked.

June 25th

My Anorexia Prevention Program is going well. Flossom has signed up.

We’re showing absolutely no signs of becoming food-phobic.

Flossom is stashing biscuits and I have a good supply of chocolate in the fridge in case of emergencies.

Flossom and I are united in our fight against anorexia.