Chubs, the Little Horse

Hey friends, it’s Chubs again.

I’ve been doing some thinking lately—deep, meaningful, carrot-fueled thinking. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I should be in charge. Of what, you ask? The barn. All of it. The stalls, the feed room, the pastures, the whole operation.

Don’t get me wrong—I love my hoomans. They’re sweet, kind, and mostly competent. But I’ve seen enough to know that if I were calling the shots around here, things would look very different.

For starters, carrots would be served hourly. Not just once a day, not just as a “you were good” treat. Hourly. It’s called motivation. Look it up.

Next, stall cleaning would be optional. I mean, I get it—we all like a clean space. But sometimes a little mess adds character. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve rolled in hay that’s exactly 60% clean and 40% chaos.

Also, blankets would only be applied with consent. I don’t care how cold it is—if Finnick doesn’t want to wear his, no one should have to wrestle him like it’s some kind of rodeo. Let the horse be grumpy and chilly if he wants.

The feed room? Yeah, that would be open to barn residents at all times. No more locked doors. You trust us to carry you around on trail rides, but not to portion out our own oats? Rude.

And another thing—trail rides would be more about the snacks and less about the scenery. Stop and let us munch a little, okay? The grass is right there. What are we even doing if not grazing with intention?

Oh! And we’d finally get a proper “horse lounge.” You know, a quiet spot in the shade with fresh water, extra-soft bedding, and maybe a few fans blowing. No riding, no brushing—just chill time. I’d even let the goats visit. (Maybe.)

Finally, I’d make it a rule that everyone who walks into the barn must greet me first. It’s just manners. Say hello, scratch my forehead, maybe comment on how majestic I look. Simple things.

So yeah, if I ran the barn, things would be different. Better. Tastier. Possibly a bit more chaotic.

But until then, I guess I’ll just stand here… looking adorable… and waiting for someone to finally unlock that feed room door.

Until next time, friends—dream big, demand carrots. 🐴