.
Hello
Hello
My name is Duchess
Strictly speaking "La Grande-Duchesse" but
Reon never got to (try to) say it which pisses Kurt off a lot for some reason I
don't quite understand.
I'm the daughter of Gwen .. Remember Gwen? .. The
little black Robinson lady who did great things around Trentham (until they
threw a bloody crossing thing in front of her when she wasn't looking, well
that's how SHE tells the story) and who stopped Gee a Maiden from getting a win
after twenty something seconds? She's still black and bonny, my one-win,
everso-well-bred mum, but she's a wee bit wrinkled now (I mean, she's NINE!) ...
showing her age… Not like me. I'm gorgeous.
I'm also the first horse Kurt ever bred, so I've been
spoiled rotten all the four years of my little life. First by Rachel and Gary
and then by Kurt himself. And don't think I haven't enjoyed it. Chuckle. It's
all right. Kurt? I can control him.
Oh I suppose I should mention that my daddy (whom I've
never ever met, the usual old story doubtless, did a runner before I was born)
was a chap called Sundon. I've heard people say that this is why I am what they
call "such a handful". I'm not sure whether they mean his doing a
runner, or just him being Sundon.
I don't know what it means being a handful, either. It
must mean that I like to go fast. But that's me, I just like to run. Fast. I'm
not mad keen on walking, but I love to run. Fast. Faster the better. It's good
when Kurt has one of those things they
call a "lead" hanging from my chin. If you tug really hard and suddenly,
he ends up on the ground and I get a jolly good munch of grass while he's
getting up and, with any luck, if I time it right, a run as well. Fast. Good game. And when Kurt
gets up and chases me and ALMOST catches me, I run a little more. Walk? Why?
Walking is for packhorses.
And, heck, I'm a racehorse. And racehorses are
SUPPOSED to run. When Kurt first put one of those carts on me, I was a bit off
put, so off put I forgot to object for MONTHS, but second time in I knew what
was up and, hey! I was in my element. He got into the sulky and whee! Off we
went. Fast! It was GREAT! I'm not quite sure what the comment I heard
afterwards was supposed to mean: "she does her fast work before her warm
up". I just dragged Kurt back to the paddock and had a good pant and some
more grass. Fast, yeah!
I don't know why, but after that Kurt didn't drive me
any more. I had Wendy. And Wendy wouldn't let me go fast. That was boring. And
I let her know it. It wasn't fair. I wanted to go like a rocket and I wasn't
allowed. And damn it, I couldn't control HER. But I tried. Oh yes I tried. I
mean, I'm a racehorse and I wanna go FAST!
Then one day a big truck came. And I was shipped away
to the depths of a place called Banks Peninsula. No Kurt, no Wendy. A new man
in my life. Murray. Nice bloke. But he had this same mania for wanting to make
me WALK. We did some strange things. Trotting up and down roads, would you
believe. Not mad about that. So I backed him into a gorse hedge. But that
didn't stop him. Men! Then after a while we went on to a real race track. OK.
This was my thing. But we had to go through some rotten places to get there.
WALK through some rotten places. I mean I do object to being taken through a
Car Park. At 1 mile an hour. So I thought I'd let him know. Next time he took
me there, I said "well mate if you want slow, you get slow". And I
sat down. It's quite hard to sit down with a sulky and a big tall man attached
to your rear end, but I did it. Point made, right?
And guess what! The big truck came back. Next thing
I'm back home with Kurt and Wendy and mum and Davey Crockett and Master Ado and
Wee Tree (Weet and I grew up together as dorm mates and I bully her a lot ..
its great fun). But after that no-one came to get me to have a run. And to be
honest, before long, I felt kind of bored. Well, I bore easily. Heck, nothing
better to do but lead all the paddockmates on frequent hoons around the five
acres. I hoon brilliantly.
And then one day, at last, Kurt came to get me.
Yippeee. Fun coming. He took me down to the barn. Cart time? Nope. Just a nice
brush and shampoo and one of those foul wormer things which I spat all over the
place.
Nyaaah! No run!
Blow that for a joke. I'll show him. Hehe. On the way back to the paddock I did
my gotcha bit. Cool, cool and then .. Whoops! Off we go, Kurt hits the ground
and ... arrr dammit he didn't lose the lead. Ouch! He HIT me! He never hits me.
No-one is allowed to hit the Duchess! He HIT me! And what's this he's saying?
"OK. That's it. She's not going back to Murray.
Its turkey baster time."
Next thing I was back in the five acre. But I didn't
have my nice expensive fur coat on. And I didn't get any yummy hard feed. And
no-one EVER came to put the cart on me. I had to content myself with bossing
Weet and Ado (you can't boss mum, and certainly not Mr Crockett, dammit) and I
was MEGA-BORED. And all the visitors, when there were visitors, were for
someone else. I mean Crockett and Dodo Ado got CARROTS, but I was being
IGNORED.
Then, at last, this week the visit was for Me. Me me
me me me! Kurt came with a lead. And some other people. The other people took
Weet away. She doesn't play up, silly soft cow, she just lets them boss her
about. So those other people were all over her. Not ME. Her. So I thought I
might as well go without fuss too and see what happened. I mean ANYTHING is
more interesting than life with Dodo Ado, grumpy Davey and I'm too big a girl
to still be living with mother. So, as I say, I didn't play up too much. Just
enough to let them know that I can if I want.
And, what? ANOTHER big truck. OK,where to this time?
Murray..? Pleeeeeze, I won't flop in the Mot carpark again.... Please let it be
Murray...
WHAAAAT???????
I know about men. I mean Ive spent the last couple of
months in a paddock with grumpy Davey and drippy Dodo. This is different? Well, all I can say is I hope its a man who likes to
go FAST.
A what? A Continentalman? Sounds kinda sexy.OK. I'll get on the truck. (Look how amazed Kurt and Wendy look as I jump on with
no aggro, alongside Weet) A Continentalman eh?HmmmI'll report back later.
A virgin? What's a virgin?
For the meanwhile
Yours
The FAST
Kurt's 2014 comments: Well, Duchess had a beautiful baby boy THE SOLDIER FRITZ by Continentalman, and since she liked foreigners so much we sent her to the French sire LOVE YOU. Results: glorious-looking foals with (so far) only one win amongst them.
And now that I'm running down my horse interests, and will breed no more ... Duchess has to go. After 12 years at Gerolstein she's off next week to live with Karina ... One more BIG TRUCK .. I will miss you Duchess ... Gerolstein (named for you) will never be the same without you. Have lots more lovely babies ..
and stop writing for the press, OK? That's my job!
