I hope you have survived the past fortnight without a weekly fix from me, but they say absence makes the heart grow fonder so it must be all for the good…
Last week we had to say goodbye – temporarily – to Rocky, who left Wimbledon last week to return to Wales for the Summer in a reversal of his normal routine: he used to appear at WVS in April and stay with us until the Autumn. But Covid has had an impact on his life too – and that of Sheena, his loving owner (who has been part of the WVS family for more than 25 years, but remains a newbie in the Old Bird’s view) – so everything is topsy turvy this year. Sheena and hubby Patrick are hoping to be able to spend some time in Wales this Summer and obviously it wouldn’t be the same without Rocky, so I can totally understand – who wouldn’t want to spend quality time with their equine companion wherever they may be? That said, Rocky’s many fans can look forward to welcoming him back later this year, as will I – he’s generally a good sort, even if he has a tendency to demonstrate greater enthusiasm for cantering up hills than I feel is seemly (I think it important to make our riders put in some effort of their own). Rocky has told me that Sheena only proffers treats AFTER she has ridden which may be widely considered acceptable, but is clearly substandard compared with the regime I have trained the Old Bird to adopt (but I don’t tell Rocky that as it would be unkind to make him to feel disadvantaged in any way).
Nevertheless, OB is not always as compliant as I would like. For reasons that escape me, she seems to seek popularity with the WVS canine pack which involves providing them with treats when she should surely be saving her pennies to spend exclusively on me. I don’t so much mind WVS Canine Pack leader Crumpet benefiting from such generosity – she’s a great protector (even now that she can’t see) of us horses if we’re threatened at all by badly behaved dogs on the Common – but as for the others, I don’t think so. Zimbo’s familiar, Frodo Waggins (ha! he thinks having two names gives him kudos but really special people – like me, obviously – don’t need fancy names) is by far the worst offender as he typically tries to grab the Old Bird’s attention as soon as she arrives at the yard and often before she has even had a chance to greet and treat me. And the rest of the WVS canine troupe have been quick to follow suit, not only Banjo (Tash) and Milo (Kate) who are both part timers, but even Maisie (Auntie Caroline), who is barely more than a pup, now recognises that expensive treats are on offer. Still, at least the Old Bird has more sense than to hand out MY treats to other horses – at least generally not while I am watching – although I am generous enough to allow the odd hand-out to my good mates at the start of or during our rides (notably Honey and Posh).
On that note, as one of the elders in the yard, I clearly deserve to be respected and, for me, this takes several forms, the most important of which is allowing me always to have my head in front of whoever I am beside on hacks out on the Common. My best chums recognise this – I think I have said before how pleasing it is that even newbie Elvis acknowledges my position in the WVS hierarchy – but occasionally one of them will forget and have to be put back in their box: Honey, for example, although normally a good and fairly biddable girl, sometimes seems to think it’s ok to try and sneak ahead of me, so I have to give her a good talking to, which she typically takes with good grace. On the other hand, she was encouraged just this past weekend by Honey Mummy Senior to push ahead of me – part of some daft human experiment – and I am embarrassed to say I fell for it, dutifully snapping at Honey, causing HMS and OB great, but unwarranted, merriment.
I have recently been pondering on the subject of relationships; I am sure, like me, many of you display different personalities to different people, which can be perplexing to the independent observer. For example, I know the Old Bird is a bit disbelieving when she hears that many people consider me to be a rather affectionate individual; recently she has been told of cuddles received from me by, among others, lovely Lily’s owner Julia, some of the carers and volunteers and Iris, one of the liveries/part-time carers down at Manor Farm who posted a rather charming testimonial on Facebook to my gentleness with her niece (you can see how delightful I am in the attached photo). Of course, the Old Bird is my favourite human, but I like to think of our bond as spiritual rather than physical. I admit to being a little pushy in my enthusiasm for treats, and she has only herself to blame for allowing me to get away with various behaviours that others would consider unacceptable, so I maybe don’t show her the respect and love she might like, but I do come up trumps (not the Donald sort) in the ring, where I am only too happy to please (assuming I understand what she is asking of me). I hope she doesn’t compare me too unfavourably with Spooky who used to boast that he was so gentle, she would feed him polos from her lips, which is all well and good, but does she remember what a nightmare he was to ride?
On a more mundane subject, the British weather is again showing us how unpredictable it can be. It’s been far too dry for too long – our tracks are very dusty, but we are lucky that there are still some good canter spots (for those with a penchant for that pace), while there are now fewer people/dogs/kids/joggers/cyclists on the Common than during the last lockdown, which is a blessing. And although we are well into the Spring, I am told it has been the coldest April for more than 60 years, with frosts every night somewhere in the UK, but it’s still been warm enough during the daytime for us horses to forgo rugs and show off our Summer coats. In true Bank Holiday fashion, we are promised rain today, which will be much appreciated and help to encourage more delicious Spring grass, which reminds me that I must make a dash for my taxi down to Manor Farm where some serious grazing awaits me.
Rory x
PS, I am not sure why I didn’t get an invitation to the birthday drinks enjoyed by Lily and Fudge on Saturday – I would have been more than happy to down a half of Guinness with them; there are consequences to disrespectful behaviour, so they should both be very afraid.