The Old Bird prides herself on always telling me when she will next see me and, to be fair, her forecasts are typically pretty accurate. On Friday, however, she was a no show, apparently prioritising some soppy cat who needed urgent attention from the vet (cystitis is such a girl’s condition),
although she did send her apologies via the carers. Instead, I made sure to give She Who Must Be Obeyed a most enjoyable (snack-free) ride and also ensured Head Carer Nadia had a jolly time the following hour. By Saturday, I had decided – generously – to forgive the Old Bird as she seemed genuinely sorry to have let me down in such a heartless way – after all, no OB = far fewer treats
I have to admit that I am gratified that she always insists on tacking me up as it means extra apples and carrots — we have developed an immutable routine — which, as you can imagine, I much appreciate. An added benefit is that she knows the job inside out, so I am always comfortably tacked up, even if (because of the eating element) the whole process takes longer than it probably should. Sadly, this is not the case for all my mates as I observed just this past weekend, when Honey Mummy Senior failed in this simple task and Honey had to be undressed and redressed in the passageway by an experienced carer, thereby somewhat delaying our hack & snack outing. At the extreme end of the tacking up spectrum was an experience I had once when an owner came rushing into the box where I was happily meditating on the joys of this world and started to try to squeeze me into someone else’s too small tack, bizarrely mistaking me for her own horse (I won’t name and shame, but you know who you are).
On a positive note, now that the clocks have gone forward, we can be confident that Spring is truly here which must be a good thing, even if it doesn’t change much for me (meals just arrive earlier). There’s much talk by our riders at the moment about the pleasure they get from looking at the blossom on the trees and how heartening it is to see the fresh green leaves (very tasty), but my focus is on the new grass which is coming through nicely and very delicious it is too – the new bramble leaves aren’t bad either. That said, I am never allowed to graze as much as I would like when out on the Common as even the Old Bird calls time too early for my taste. Note to She Who Must Be Obeyed: is this a breach of our equine rights?
This time tomorrow, the stables will have reopened and She Who Must Be Obeyed, her whole team and we horses (well, not me until Friday) will be welcoming everybody back after far too long. I understand that all sorts of people – even those sad ones who don’t ride or get to spend time with horses – are now allowed to do more than had been possible over the past three months, so I am planning on making this my last weekly missive (at least unless we are returned to lockdown at some point in the future – please God, no). I am still minded to share stories and thoughts with you if I think they are too good to keep to myself, but on a rather more ad hoc basis (that means whenever I feel like it and to no particular timetable).
I am, however, expecting to hear some good yarns about how both horses and riders get on as they reacquaint themselves with each other. I promised an update on Dexter and I can report that he has adopted the role of teacher’s pet, not putting a hoof wrong in his first week, but I feel sure he is just collecting gold stars so he can misbehave if he so chooses at some point and still be considered a little angel (enough to make you vomit, if only we were able to do so). I remember when I first arrived in Wimbledon, my favourite trick was a four feet off the ground leap whenever I chose to find something discombobulating, a movement that everyone said was totally safe and not at all unseating as I always landed exactly where I had taken off – until, of course, I decided to put in a larger than normal leap incorporating a lateral shift, neatly depositing the Old Bird on the floor (she was largely undamaged). I gave up after that, as the element of surprise had disappeared. Pod is now being ridden again (didn’t I suggest as much last week?) and is making She Who Must Be Obeyed and daughter no 1 (Sasha) revoltingly happy (although I hope I gave him pause for thought when SWMBO chose ME as her mount last Friday).
The carers have been working hard to ensure the sand ring is much improved for the resumption of group lessons, so we can look forward to seeing how well it now rides; we’ve only been allowed one-on-one sessions since Christmas, which I can tell you is pretty exhausting, particularly for the more mature amongst us and especially if you are being put through your paces by Mojca who is always seeking that little bit more than it is comfortable for us to offer (unless you’re an attention seeking show off, of course, which I am obviously not).
I will sign off now, but promise to keep you posted as and when I have something worthwhile to say. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy the return of some small freedoms, much as I will down at Manor Farm.
Rory x