Chubs, the Little Horse

Hello, friends. It’s Chubs—your favorite slightly muddy, very hydrated pony.

Today, I come to you with something deeply heartfelt. A tribute. A declaration. An ode, if you will. To what, you ask? Not carrots (though they remain top-tier). Not naps in the sunshine (glorious, but not the subject of today’s emotions). No, this post is dedicated to one of life’s greatest gifts:

The Hose.

Ah, the hose. That beautiful, snaky lifeline of pure joy. Some horses are afraid of it. Not me. Never me. The very sound of the hose turning on—pssshhhhh—is like music to my ears. I hear it, and my ears perk, my hooves shuffle, and I make my way over with all the enthusiasm of a pony who knows exactly what’s about to happen.

A good soak from the hose is better than a spa day. Spray my legs? Yes, please. My belly? Absolutely. My face? Go ahead. Just don’t forget the chest and under the chin. That’s the sweet spot.

On especially hot days, I’ll walk right into the water stream like it’s my destiny. Sometimes I turn in slow, dramatic circles so every part of me gets a taste. I know how to time the spin just right to catch the full blast across my back. It’s an art.

But the hose isn’t my only love. I also adore lakes, ponds, puddles—you name it. If it splashes, I’m in it. If it soaks my legs and turns the dirt into mud? Even better. I’m not afraid to get wet, and I don’t understand horses who act like water is the enemy. Don’t they know it’s liquid happiness?

Now, of course, my little girl thinks it’s hilarious when I get soaked and then immediately roll in the dirt. “Chubs!” she yells. “You were clean for five minutes!” But I know she’s secretly impressed by my technique.

So, to the hose—thank you. For every summer cool-down, every muddy adventure, every blast of joy straight to the face… you have my heart.

Until next time, friends—stay cool, stay muddy, and never underestimate the power of a well-timed spray to the chest.