Tom pleaded, ‘Mum, will you come and help me please? I’ve kicked a football into next door.’ ‘Oh honestly Tom’ I replied ‘you don’t need me, just ask them for it, they not exactly the sort of people to get upset about such things are they?’ (you could ask our neighbours for a cup of their own blood and they’d give it willingly, more than that they’ll even let you siphon heating oil out of their fuel tank in February, but that is another tale. Good neighbours are a precious thing.)
Tom continued his plea ‘No you don’t understand; it’s the horses, I can’t get the ball back, they are playing with it; and they’ve taken it right down the field, come and see!
Ahh right, I can now see the problem
Four elegant but rather playful young horses have moved into the adjoining field for the summer.
Being the supportive mother that I am, I let Tom introduce himself to the new neighbours, and retrieve his football
We don’t usually get horses as neighbours, sheep and cows, yes and once a wonkey donkey, but this is an equine first. They are very beautiful, I’m sure you will be seeing more of them.
(My good deed for the day, alerting the farmer to the fact one of his cows in the top field was in some distress, it was sat on its haunches, like a dog waiting for a tit-bit. It looked most bizarre; cows just don’t sit like that! It also looked miserable. It couldn’t get to its feet, no matter how hard it tried. I can report It is now safely back at the farm and being treated for a dodgy hind leg. Result.)