It’s official. My daughter is a horse whisperer, and though I’ve never read the book or seen the film, I’d wager she’s more interesting than both of them.

You may have read some of my other posts referring to the horses who live by the river when they’re not pulling carriages in the city. Miss M likes to assign them girls names, though their anatomy clearly indicates they’re boys. So we visit Stella, Coffee, Chocolate (though these last two names could be unisex) and their friends when we walk Mr Dog. The horses are mercurial in their affections, sometimes trotting over, other times ignoring us completely.

Miss M decided to take matters into her own hands a couple of weeks ago and get their attention with a loud whinny (not sure of correct spelling, but you know what I mean). I was ready to scoff, and also to ask her to keep the volume down, but every horse in that place came trotting over to the fence to be patted. Miss M was rightly pleased with her efforts.

A few days later, there were five horses at the park. They were nibbling at blackberry bushes, hanging out, and weren’t interested in us at all. Again, Miss M let fly with her crazy loud horse cry, and they all came obediently over. If only I’d had a video camera, I think I’d make a fortune from Australia’s Funniest Home Videos. We had celery for them too, but since most of them spat it straight out, I know that wasn’t what attracted them. The only one who ate it was Eater - Stella’s ever hungry “sister”.

Now Miss M is convinced she can talk to every animal, like some sort of modern day Henry Higgins - or is it Doctor Doolittle? Perhaps she could teach horses to speak with correct grammar and hybridise both characters.

Today I’m loving: three days ’til holidays!