“Oh, not bad, Mrs Rabbit, and you?”
“All right, thanks,” she replied. “Mind you, I bet you’re still a bit lonely without Mr Hedgehog aren’t you?”
“Yes I am a bit, you know for the kids’ sakes as well; but how many times did I tell him not to mess around in the road?” Mrs Hedgehog replied.
“What did happen exactly?” Mrs Rabbit asked.
“He was in the middle of the road chasing a bug when he got one of them four by fours stuck up him,” was Mrs Hedgehog’s reply.
“Ooh, I bet that hurt; I am sorry, love.”
“Oh, don’t be, he was a pain anyway. Ah, talking of husbands, here comes yours,” chortled Mrs Hedgehog; and sure enough Mr Rabbit was coming over the hill, constantly looking at the activities being caused by Duke and company.
He approached his wife and Mrs Hedgehog. “What are those lot up to?” he asked, pointing at the horses and the children.
Mrs Rabbit gave him a blank look. “Oh, hello, dear, how’s your day been? I love you too,” she snapped sarcastically.
“Are you going barmy, woman? What are they up to?” snapped Mr Rabbit.
“Oh, they think by moving the rubbish to the next field they’ll be in Farmer Tankard’s good books and they won’t end up in a beef burger,” replied a cross looking Mrs Rabbit.
“Oh, do they now?” he said, shaking his head as he set off towards them.
“Ah, good afternoon, my dear Mr Rabbit; a bit of brain power, that is all it takes, what? Duke greeted him with a broad grin.
“Is that so?” replied Mr Rabbit, smirking and scratching his right ear.
Champ stopped pushing one of the old cars to take a breather, “How’s life at the farm, Mr Rabbit?”
“Oh, it seems all right; they are going out drinking tonight.”
They all looked at each other astounded. “Ya joking? That boring lot going out drinking and partying? That’ll be a good night,” joked Nelly.
“Aye, they must be flush. What have they done? Won the lottery?” asked a grinning Champ, just as he was about to start pushing the car again.
“No, they’ve sold this field to Farmer Giles to grow crops in,” Mr Rabbit answered in a loud tone, grinning.
“What?” screamed Lightning.
Duke slumped on the ground, looked at the others and mumbled, “Well, as some grumpy humans would say: I don’t believe it.”
*
Later on, once all the rubbish had been put back again, the horses were stood grazing behind a very tall hedge at the top of the field when Farmer Tankard and his son went strolling by. “But, Dad, are you sure that’s the only option left?”
“I’m afraid so, son; I’m getting rid of all the fields.”
“Well, just hire a field to put them in then, Dad.”
“Don’t be daft, what a waste of money. They’re old, son — no, I’m sorry, they’ll be slaughtered for meat.” And the farmer and his son carried on up the path, leaving the horses standing there absolutely speechless.
Later that night, the moon had started to replace the sun and the Tankards had gone out looking quite smart. Duke, Champ and Lightning could be found lying down on some dirty, smelly hay; Nelly had just come back from a slow canter around the field and was now stood over her comrades.
“Well, that’s that then. I told you — gratitude,” moaned Champ.
“Oh, it’s horrible,” said Lightning.
“Will it be quick? Ya know, the chop?” asked Nelly, looking for reassurance.
“Do not think like that, Madam, I’m sure things will work out just fine,” murmured an unsure Duke.
All their minds drifted as they found themselves reminiscing about their pasts. Champ thought about how he would love to be gracing Aintree again; he pictured himself in the winner’s enclosure with the flashing of the cameras, everyone cheering his name and his owner constantly patting him in praise. Nelly imagined the treats she would get from pulling her heavy cart full of scrap — carrots and potatoes and at least twice a week her favourite — chocolate. Lightning pictured the happy faces of the children as they watched her performing her tricks. The one she had loved to do best was standing on her hind legs while she swung a hula hoop around her neck; the kids had loved it. Finally, Duke could see the Queen in her carriage with himself proudly at the forefront, his chest sticking out with pride, as the public looked on in awe.
Their happy thoughts were once again smashed though as Mr Rabbit came tearing up to them. “Quick, come on,” he yelled.
“What on earth is the matter, man?” asked Duke.
Mr Rabbit was bent over trying to get his breath back. “Ooh — gasp — bur-burglars at the Tankards’ — come on,” he shouted.
Duke, Nelly and Lightning all jumped up, but Champ didn’t budge. “Come on, my dear fellow,” yelled Duke looking across at Champ.
“Are you mad? Have you got sieves for brains? We’re gonna be turned into the kebab house menu and you wanna help ’em?” snapped Champ.
“Enough of that; get in line,” ordered Duke.
“I will not — never,” replied Champ.
“Very well, come on troops, keep it tight at the rear,” yelled Duke as he gave Champ a hardened stare; he was not used to his fellow horses back at Buckingham palace disobeying his orders. He thought Champ should be court-martialled or even beheaded.
“Ya joking, have ya seen my rear?” chortled Nelly.
“That’ll do; silence in the ranks,” Duke ordered and with Nelly and Lightning and Mr Rabbit in tow he made his way to the Tankards’.
It took the horses a good five minutes before they arrived at the Tankards’ and sure enough there were burglars: one in a van parked outside the front gate and another two who were just entering the house.
“Have we got a plan then, Duke?” asked Mr Rabbit.
Nelly was getting nervous. “What’s that smell?” asked Lightning, sniffing the air. Nelly smirked. “Nelly, really?”
“Sorry, I’m scared.”
It was at this point that Duke came into his element and demonstrated why he was once one of the palace’s finest. “Steady, let’s have some discipline. Right, here is the plan.”
*
Meanwhile, in the Tankard house, the burglars were ransacking the place, looking for whatever they could get their hands on.
“Come on, George, get a move on; it’s not a picnic, ya know.”
“That’s a shame, Bert; I’m starving.”
It was at that moment that they stumbled upon the Tankards’ safe. Bert’s eyes lit up and a sly grin spread all over his thin, weasely face. “Hah, hah, bingo, hey, George, my boy?”
“No, I don’t fancy bingo tonight, Bert.”
“Shut up, ya buffoon; here, hold this,” Bert raged as he passed George the crowbar.
Back outside, Harry the driver, who was supposed to be keeping watch, had put down his paper after rereading the same articles several times; he was getting bored of waiting. Slowly, he reached for his double barrel shotgun and he rubbed his rumbling belly as he took careful aim at his supper, which just so happened to be in the form of Mr Rabbit. Harry was just about to pull the trigger when Mr Rabbit toddled off. Silently, Harry followed him around the corner, annoyed that he had to get out of the warm van, but his hunger was stronger than his annoyance and he slowly crept after Mr Rabbit, forgetting all about his role as the getaway driver.
As soon as they got him out of the way, Duke fastened the van to Nelly. It was a small, battered, old, Renault van, which was no problem for Nelly; it bought back happy memories of her dragging around her old cart on her rag and bone rounds. So, excited, she set off and soon pulled it out of sight.
Around the corner, Harry was quietly easing up his gun. He was about twenty feet away from Mr Rabbit, whom he now had firmly in his sights. He was rubbing his index finger over the trigger when he felt a puff of air on the side of his face. He turned to see a grinning Lightning. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Aaaaaaaaaah,�
�� yelled Harry as he chucked his gun in the air; his instincts told him to run, which he did; stopping dead as he knocked himself out cold, thanks to the stone wall.
A couple of minutes later, after the horses had pushed the van out of sight, Bert and George came out of the house with a bag of goodies. They stopped, looking dumbstruck.
“What the —? Where’s the van?” groaned a puzzled Bert.
“Has Harry gone to the bingo, Bert?” asked George with a grin.
Bert, who was getting annoyed with the whole situation, swung the crowbar around in the air before bringing it down on George’s head, flooring him in seconds.
“George, ya ain’t got time to lounge about; you go that way and I’ll go down here,” growled Bert, sticking his size eight boots into George’s ribcage.
Bert set off; a few minutes later George remembered who and where he was and set off on his route.
“Harry, for God’s sake, stop horsing around,” yelled Bert at Harry who was still out cold, slumped against the wall.
At that moment, Lightning appeared in front of George, balancing on an old, tin barrel to get his attention. Bert turned and saw her too. With both men watching Lightning it enabled the others to try to catch the burglars. “You know the plan — charge!” Duke yelled.
George smiled and fainted; Bert tried to run but Nelly walked out in front of him. “Boo,” she yelled.
“Aaaaahh — help,” screamed Bert as he dodged around her and headed down a pathway in-between the Tankards’ house and one of the barns, which was too narrow for the horses.
“Quick, the cad’s getting away,” shouted Duke.
Bert turned, blowing raspberries at the horses, but as he did so he watched Champ appear from nowhere, jumping one of the biggest walls he had ever seen. Champ was ecstatic as it took him back to the time he cleared Becher’s Brook and won the National in record time. “Aaaaah, help me,” yelled Bert as Champ knocked him flying into the pigpen.
Bert, half dazed, looked up. “Here, do you mind? You’re in my supper, mucker,” blurted one of the pigs, Bert smiled and fainted.
“Hooray,” they all shouted.
“Well done, my dear comrades, we showed them. What a jolly good show,” shouted a triumphant Duke.
*
Later, the police arrested the would-be burglars and the Tankards and the police congratulated the horses for playing their part in catching the crooks; they all received a friendly pat from Farmer Tankard. Our heroes watched and smirked as the police shoved the burglars into the van.
“I’m telling ya, Constable, them horses can talk,” screamed Bert, pointing at the horses.
The constable shook his head at Bert. “And I suppose the next thing you’ll be telling me is that the pigs can talk too,” snapped the constable looking over at the pigs.
Bert, shaking his head, looked at him, astonished. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Bert said.
The constable looked Bert up and down and replied, “Whatever gave you that idea? Get in, you buffoon,” yelled the constable as he shoved Bert in the van.
Farmer Tankard shook hands with the officer in charge as Farmer Tankard’s son began to lead the horses back to the field. “Thank you, officer.”
“It’s not me you should be thanking, Sir, it’s your horses; I don’t know how they did it, but they sure did. Talking horses — ha, that’s a good one — goodnight, Sir.” The police left and Farmer Tankard went to check that the farm was secure.
*
A good hour after the attempted burglary, the horses were back in the field, cuddled up together and feeling very pleased with themselves.
“Well, that should do it. I’m so tired, but I just can’t sleep; I’m much too excited,” said Lightning, smiling. The others laughed
“I must say, Champ, when you jumped that wall…spiffing good show, what.”
Champ smiled at Duke. “We couldn’t have done it without you leading us, Duke, and I bet that felt good, Nell, pulling the van. Was it heavy?”
Nelly blew a big ball of mist out as her cough started again. “Wheeze — ooh dear — no I have pulled a lot harder; like the one I had to drag up Primrose Hill once. I had to have new horse shoes put on, me ode ’tator.”
The horses laughed and continued talking about their adventure long into the night.
*
Morning soon came and the horses were up and about, still excited from the previous night’s events.
“Morning, Mrs Rabbit, where is Mr Rabbit? I didn’t see him coming back last night.”
“Morning, Champ; after he helped you lot with the burglars he went back to see what food he could scrounge from the Tankards and ran smack bang into Shep their dog. I’ve never seen him run so fast, ha ha,” Mrs Rabbit chortled.
“Oh dear, he’s all right, isn’t he, Mrs Rabbit?” asked a concerned Lightning.
Mrs Rabbit dusted down her carpet, which was now looking a bit worse for wear; Mr Rabbit had got it from the Tankards’ outside toilet as a present for her a few months back. “What? Oh him, yes dear, he’s in bed, getting his strength back,” she replied. Lightning smiled and trotted off.
Duke was standing behind the top hedge of the field when Farmer Tankard and his son were making their way back from their morning rounds.
“There they are, Dad, our heroes, eh?” said Farmer Tankards’ son, batting a fly off his neck.
“Aye, the only talking horses in the world, hey?” Farmer Tankard and his son laughed.
Duke turned and winked at the others who had trotted up to join him.
Farmer Tankard and his son straightened themselves up and smiled at the horses. “Yes, well done you rascals, you certainly saved the day,” Farmer Tankard said with a smile.
“Yes, well done; right, what were you saying on the way down, Dad?” They started to slowly walk away.
“What? Oh, I said we’ll take them to be slaughtered in the morning.” And they disappeared around the corner.
Nelly and Lightning gazed at each other and started to cry. Champ kicked the hedge, bringing down a branch that just missed Lightning and showering the others with leaves. Duke just stared into thin air, while Nelly licked her chops and started to eat the leaves. Champ yelled, “I told you, that’s the reward you get.” Duke very slowly trotted off with his head bowed low.
*
After a sleepless night, which was not helped by Mr Rabbit’s constant ribbing about them becoming the next batch of cat meat, the sun started to rise.
The horses, who had nothing to say to each other, were drinking water when their aching minds were disturbed by Mr Rabbit jumping up and down on the fence yelling, “They’re coming, they’re coming.”
The horses were plucking up the courage to say their goodbyes when Farmer Tankard leaned over the gate. “Morning, my burglar alarms, ha ha. Come on, son,” he shouted and they left for the next field, leaving the horses feeling confused.
“What is going on? There’s nothing like keeping you in suspense,” moaned Champ.
Duke gave him a stern look because even though he was shocked, he always tried to maintain discipline. “Silence in the ranks.”
A few minutes later Farmer Tankard and his son made their way back toward the farm with their stock of old cows. “It’s a shame to have to slaughter them, Dad.”
“Aye, but I’m afraid that’s life; come on, mush,” Farmer Tankard replied.
Two of the cows, Jenny and Daisy, who were at the back, looked at each other. “Well, it looks like goodnight Vienna for us, hey Daisy?”
“Aye, mind ya, I am glad, Jenny, me rheumatism’s killing me.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Daisy, them slaughterhouses are no houses of fun, you know.”
“Ya what? Ya joking, ain’t ya? I’ve been told some of them butchers are right darlings,” replied Daisy.
“What? Well what are we waiting for? Make way for a couple of big ’uns,” chortled Jenny and off they trudged.
Nelly and Lightning shared a tender mo
ment as they brushed their heads together while Champ ran jubilantly around the field, happier than he had felt for a long while, but Duke looked over at the smirking Mr Rabbit. “You bounder, you knew all along! That was a bit below the saddle that was, what,” he moaned.
Mrs Rabbit came marching over, swinging her rolling pin around. Even though she loved her husband she never liked it when he wound up the horses. “You coward, you will run, come here,” she yelled as she took a swing at Mr Rabbit, who had the good sense to run.
Later on, Farmer Tankard and his son entered the field with some treats for the horses; there were carrots, other vegetables and some chocolate. “Here you are, my lovelies,” said the son as he took a bite out of some of the chocolate, for which he received a dirty look from Nelly.
“Aye, and if this is not enough, tomorrow afternoon you’re all going to a new destination; and don’t worry, you’re all being kept together,” said Farmer Tankard as he patted Duke on the back.
*
Another day soon arrived and after a good breakfast the happy horses went to say their goodbyes. The Rabbit and Hedgehog youngsters kissed and waved at them, while Mrs Rabbit and Mrs Hedgehog were trying to hold back the tears.
“Goo-goodbye, my dears, we’ll miss you,” snivelled Mrs Rabbit. This started Nelly off crying.
Champ had all of the youngsters on his back, stroking his mane and patting him, apart from Spike Junior, who was sat on his neck, revving Champ’s ears, pretending he was on one of those motorbike things that had nearly ran him over once.
“Oh please don’t cry; we will miss you too,” sniffed Lightning.
“Yes, goodbye, ladies,” said Duke, smiling.
Mr Rabbit cautiously approached Duke. “Goodbye, Duke, I’m sorry about yesterday; I hope I’m forgiven?” he said with his sad eyes flickering at Duke.
“Goodbye, Mr Rabbit — of course you are forgiven, man. Oh, and by the way, someone wants to see you.”
Mr Rabbit gulped and slowly turned around, rubbing his ears nervously, to see Shep standing glaring at him. Shep’s white, sharp teeth were shining and saliva was oozing out of his growling mouth. “Aaaaaahhh — you rotter,” yelled Mr Rabbit at the chuckling Duke as he set off with Shep in tow. It was the funniest thing the youngsters had ever seen.
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