FANTASTIC, FANTASTIC, FANTASTIC news, or so I thought when I first heard it. There is something going on round these parts called the HAY FESTIVAL. Can you imagine anything more likely to gladden a llama’s heart? A festival dedicated to HAY, tasty HAY. Big hurrahs all round.
Well, the two-legs are going to the festival and we’re not. What a swizz! What’s the point of THEM going to Hay on Wye? They had jolly well better come back with some nice new tasty hay bales for us.
And now the whole story has come out. It isn’t a HAY festival at all. No, it’s something to do with a large number of two-legs getting together and talking about BOOKS. What’s the point of that? That sounds REALLY dull.
So, I was pretty unhappy on hearing this, and when I’m unhappy I hang my bottom lip out. See!
As it’s not a REAL hay festival, I think I might ask if I can go next year and show all the two-legs what hay actually is. Sounds much better to me, and if the old two-legs aren’t interested in meeting me, I’m sure the young two-legs would be.
Do you know what that stupid llama Avebury has done? He’s leant through our paddock fencing because he says ‘the grass is always greener in the next paddock’ and worn a bald spot on his chest. Idiot. He looks ridiculous. Our female two-leg is threatening to give him a ‘comb-over’ to cover it up. Quite right too. It’s embarrassing being seen out with Baldy, so I’m making sure I walk right at the front and he walks at the back when we’re out on a llama trek. Even Ringsbury (whose mother would struggle to call him handsome), thinks Avebury looks daft. I’m developing more respect for Ringsbury, you know. He’s become my special field mate and we often hang around together, just chewin’. Oh, by the way, after our most recent llama trek – me in front (of course), Ringsbury next, and Baldy at the back I overheard the two-leg I had trekked with say ‘Silbury Rocks!’ – What can she have meant? Everyone knows I’m named after Silbury Hill.
More from Old King Street Farm soon.