Hello fair readers!
As I may have already mentioned ( I can’t remember what I write on these things, I’m far too busy and important to remember anything ) I am the proud owner of a magnificent steed, who I christened Octavius, after the Roman emperor. It’s a little known fact about me that I am actually a great admirer of the Romans. Nero in particular has a special place in my heart. I feel we are intrinsically linked. I’ve even been tempted to buy myself a golden violin, but then I thought, no Benjamin, that’s too cliché, so I bought myself an 8 foot harp instead. It’s adorned with carvings of me dressed as angels, and completely covered in gold leaf. Quite bonnie I think you’ll find.
Where was I? Oh yes, well I thought today that I would let my ever expanding fan base know a little more about my special relationship with my horse. NO Predlemus, not that kind of relationship. You brute. Octavius is a black and gold, winged blackbird-horse hybrid. He essentially looks like a horse, but he has a large golden beak and golden claws instead of hooves. Some lesser minded mortals have impertinently questioned why I need a flying horse when I have wings of my own. And to this I answer, “You impudent cretinous fools. OF COURSE I need a flying horse, because if I had to ride around on the ground like any common mongrel, I would be more likely to bump into the likes of Predlemus or, even worse, the abomination who has titled himself Lord Pumpkin. More like Lord PLUMPkin if you ask me. HO!” I keep myself sleek and self righteous by my daily bird bath, followed by a light luncheon and a game of billiards. On a Sunday, after I’ve been forced to spend time with my family, I might indulge in a little game of Blackbird tennis with my dear friends Boris and Bertie (as long as Bertie doesn’t bring his family. That Mildew doesn’t bear thinking about). And anyway, as I was saying, having a flying horse really sets one apart from the rest of the crowd. In fact, my wife Minty bullied me into purchasing her a flying horse too. Her name is Creusa and she’s not a patch on Octavius but she doesn’t get out much fortunately, on account of having to look after my son and heir, and the other one.
I try to take Octavius out at least once a week. If I’m ever travelling long distance, say down to one of my country estates, I’ll always ride him there too. He only eats golden apples and he drinks Chianti. I think that’s the Roman in him but it could just be that he’s a raging alcoholic. Either way, I think it adds a touch of ‘je ne sais pas’ to his character. I’m looking to employ a groom to take care of him. At the moment Ecce tends to him, but Ecce can be so demanding sometimes and is complaining the work is too much for him. I think there was some sort of disagreement involving a dung heap and a tail brush but I try to stay out of the affairs of my staff. If anyone knows of a good groom, do let me know. You can find me either at The Aviary, Buckingham or Golden Nest Heights, Wiltshire.
I’ve included a little picture of me riding Octavius, for those who are interested in what he looks like. I’ve got my riding crop – I’d just like to clarify that I reserve that solely for swooping out of the sky and striking down snakes, rather than to whip my noble steed. It’s rather a jolly pastime, these foolish reptiles never see it coming. Unfortunately they’ve taken to carrying large protective parasols out with them now, which rather ruins my fun.
Right, I’m off for a ride now. I’m thinking of getting a group of us chaps together (Bertie and Boris) and starting a weekly hunt. I think Moochkin will be our first target. He’s growing insufferably conceited of late, and I for one will not stand for it.. Fancy trying to ban ME from the Blind Club! ME, the leader of the land, King of the skies, ruler over all dominions!! HO!
Tally ho chaps and chapesses, until next time!
Benjamin Goldfeather Esq.