Credit: Karen Thompson
Dear diary,
It’s day please-god-I-will-sacrifice-barbie-boy-to-make-it-all-stop of the human strangles epidemic. After a year of being locked down with increasingly feral humans obsessed with using us as the only reason they leave the house, I didn’t think ANYTHING could make it worse. I was wrong. For this week, mother nature proved she is indeed the most evil of women as she put that lesser seen shining orb into the sky.
And the humans started taking their clothes off.
It was like watching a Green Peace video on saving beached walruses, combined with some sort of David Attenborough piece on a lesser known maggot larvae pupating. I have never been so grateful in my life to now be blind in one eye — at least I could turn away — as across the land, masses of flabby flesh came out from under the frankly forgiving camouflage concealment of lounge pants and dressing gowns. It was like a remake of dawn of the dead. Only the dead are skinnier. As fellow horses across the country watched in horror, their owners turned from flabby pale to flabby red faster than an embarrassed polar bear: there is not enough therapy in the world that can help many of us un-see the sights we were subjected to…