Bank Holiday Monday in Fermanagh

Lough Erne, seen on a dry evening hack

Me and Stinky Ben took Two-legs for a wee hack down the road today. I've been advised to lose a bit of weight, so off we all set at a sedate pace. I don't want poor Stinky Ben over doing it!  He's looking a bit filled out around the edges, so I'm sure he appreciated the relaxed pace. 

I myself was more than a little concerned about the state of the turf under-hoof. There was a huge possibility that I was going to need a grand set of galoshes on this outing, with all the rain that we have been getting in this sodden place! How and ever I was pleasantly surprised and it turned out to be a dry and pleasant half hour (I don't want to risk  injury too early into my training!).

"Boo Cow!"

There was very little to look at. Anyone with any sense stayed in-doors this Bank Holiday Monday. The cows were out of-course; bellowing, “BOO!” at every opportunity. They did spook me on their first try, but by the second, third and forth time I had lost patience with their game and snorted back! Ha! That in itself was enough to send them sloshing away to the far end of their field.

Why do people come to Fermanagh?

Riding at Casle Archdale

Do you know I don't understand why people come to Fermanagh! It's a very popular tourist spot I believe, but Be-God, don't come here expecting to stay dry. I'm sure I'm developing webbed hooves! 

I was minding my own business yesterday, when some of those poor misguided (damp) tourists stopped at my gate to take a photo of me and my new best friends. There were plenty of complements and beaconing waves made in our direction, but a serious lack of nibbles. Ignoring them, I carried on eating, but I got a bit of a shock when I heard a clang and the poor tourists had landed their car in a sheuch (ditch). Their wheels were well bogged down, so there wasn't much hope them getting out of it without a pull. Luckily a farmer happened by with the big old cart horse... Big Benny.

I watched as the tourists asked for help and the farmer said Benny could pull his car out. Backing Benny up, the farmer hitched the old cart horse to the tourist's car and then yelled, "Pull, Nellie, pull." Benny didn't move, so he yelled, "Come on, pull Mac. Pull!" The bol' Benny still didn't move. By this stage I noted the look of fear in the tourists' eyes. I'm sure they thought that they had stopped a mad man, but sure then they didn't know him nor Big Benny, so when the farmer yelled "Okay, Benny, pull." Benny pulled the car out of the ditch with ease. The tourists were very appreciative indeed, but curious. One asked the farmer why he called his horse by the wrong name two times.  The farmer said, "Oh, Benny is blind, and if he thought he was the only one pulling he wouldn't even try."

Benny's an equine after my own heart. A kindred spirit! I wonder does he like grapes...