Hovis Friday Diary: “2024 passed faster than a Polo mint near my left nostril”

Dear diary,

This will be my last diary… for 2024 anyway, before you all become mothers and panic more than a Victoria’s Secret model near an open flame…

It’s kissmuss next week and then it’s New Years and then poof! Just like that, 2024 went by faster than a mint Polo shirt by my left nostril.

And what a year it has been!

We’ll go over the few instances where I was mistreated and my depths plundered like an abandoned gold mine in Tex-Ass – more like Sore Ass, I can assure you – without even dinner being purchased first . The memory of Herman wearing my tail as a mustache because of how high his arm was stuck behind my back is not a memory I want to keep for next year. I don’t want to know the 2025 anal penetration rates and so one of my New Year’s revolutions will be to strive to stop giving the mothership any more reasons to call in vet-shaped canaries to undermine the lower levels from my intestines…

What we’ll focus on is the fact that 2024 was the year that the mighty British Eventing, led by its frankly brilliant CEO Rosie, had the humility, dignity and self-awareness to admit that all these years they had been wrong. . This unconscious feathering had affected their decision making and they had in fact neglected the greatest talents and never reached the highest levels of eventing. Unfortunately, of course, I am now too old (and, according to my mother, too broken) to be able to compete for king and country, but I could bring the best thing there is. Under the guise of asking me to be the team’s official fan mascot (they couldn’t afford to upset the human in that role), they snuck me in as the head equine squeak for coach, guide and lead our team. in a way that had never been done before. And what can I say? Did we or didn’t we dominate the whole thing from start to finish? They may be purebred, featherless types, but have I succeeded or not in guiding my little flightless chicks to greatness? From giving advice on trotting to driving under stress, I have been with them every step of the way and we are now Olympic champions. I even found time to work some of my magic on the Japanese team who were photographed clutching my cutout like some sort of good luck charm…

I’m pretty sure the entire equestrian world has woken up to the idea that we shouldn’t allow looks, breeding or background to get in the way of dreams and that if you really want something, be willing to work at it, willing to do whatever it takes (which, to be clear, is just staying one step away from a restraining order), then anything is possible. I am and will forever be the embodiment of the Olympic dream and the essence of the #HeretoHelp campaign for British eventing.

Of course, all of this was captured in my NINTH book (come on people, surely I must be getting a Hooker Prize soon?), which was published in aid of the Bransby Horses charity. For all of you who are looking for last minute gift ideas, consider putting me in your stockings…

The book, of course, was released at the cult Your Horse is Alive event where I got to meet two of my superstar students to give me my gold medal and for the incredible Ros Canter to crown this which was the most phenomenal year – reaching a career high riding the OG of equine influencers, the one and only Destroyer. It doesn’t get any better than that.

So, as I close out what has been the most incredible year, a huge thank you to all of you who supported us, who bought the book, bought raffle tickets to win my mini-me and who generally helped me do whatever I wanted. This is about helping others.

Have a fantastic Kissmuss, a wonderful New Year (don’t forget those revolutions, get up and do those tricks) and I’ll see you all on the other side.

Later,

Hovis

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