Throughout the winter and into spring, I get a hot breakfast of sugar beets every morning. Saturday I decided to try wearing them to see if I would get noticed. It worked. Not only do I have them on my face (as usual), but you will notice I have them on my shoulder and both ears. I have already been interogated, and for the record... "No I don't remember how they got in my ears."
Then... Today, I took my halter off and chewed it to smitherines.
Brita is mad because she said she almost took the better one off on Sunday to take home and clean the beets off of which means I would have been wearing the one that already got broken. Luckily, the part I chewed up is OK on the spare, so she stopped by, and replaced the piece I chewed. Now I have one totally ruined "parts" halter that is all out of parts and needs to go to the Amish for repair. And my name has been officially changed to Mudd. But, the baby horse got a brand new halter. Is there some reason why I can't have one too?
So, in short, all this juvenile behavior: the beets in the hair, the teething on equipment, have put me at the top of the poop list. The baby horse has been getting away with all sorts of mischief. I think it's an unfair double standard.