My SPS took me out for something she calls a trail ride. I think a more appropriate name would be "walking through weeds on poorly maintained ground". Basically she took me to the wild areas of this rural area and made me walk around for no apparent reason. She kept talking about how much fun it was to be out there, well servants and peasants are easily amused. She did take the precaution of bringing one of the peasant horses along. His job was to walk in the lead and to sacrifice himself if any predators crossed our path. Fortunately we saw no predators and the peasant horse will be available for our next ride. I am not sure how I feel about this trail riding activity. The ground is rough, there are weeds, four legged creatures roam freely, and there are not masses of humans to see how good I look. I was most appreciative to get fresh air. The pasture where I am residing has horrendous stench in the air. The stench is caused by the dairy next door. They are spreading the contents of the waste lagoon onto their pastures, needless to say my nose is offended. I have resigned myself to living with the odoriferous odor, however I truly appreciate any kind of opportunity to breathe fresh air-even if it means riding in a trailer with a peasant and wondering aimlessly in the wild areas of the valley. Tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito (Yield not to misfortunes, but advance all the more boldly against them)
There are many servants at the facility where I am now forced to live. I have one special personal servant, who claims to be my owner. I beg to differ...I can not be owned, I simply grace a particular human with my presence. My special personal servant, to be referred to in the future as the SPS, has a certain habit that must be addressed. During the week she will arrived properly attired, she has on the clothes she wore to work in her office. On the weekends or days she does not work in the office she shows up in her "farm clothes". Her favorite pants are five years old, soft from wear, and in the past month they have developed an unsightly hole. A royal horse like me should not have to look at such an eye sore. It is bad enough that I am forced to live with peasants, but now I have to tolerate shoddy dress too? I have requested the the SPS arrive properly attired in the future, we will see how that works. Tu ne cede malissed contra audentiorito (Yield not to misfortunes, but advance all the more boldly against them)
My name is Sir Darby and I am a king among peasants. I am nulli secundus (Second to none). I once lived in a fancy barn, lived a pampered life, and was not subjected to living with peasant horses. Now I live in a pasture, I am subjected to mud, and I have to smell cows. This is the story of how a king adjusts to living the life of a regular horse while maintaining his regal nature. Along the way I hope to teach the peasants about the finer things in life. I have adopeted a new life motto for tolerating life in this lowly place: tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito (Yield not to misfortunes, but advance all the more boldly against them)
Somewhere far away from the civilized world, The Wilds of Washington State
Sir Darby is a 20 year old appaloosa /Percheron cross. A royal horse who has been displaced and is now living at a working ranch. He is training his SPS (special personal servant) the proper care and handling of a royal horse.