When does the fun start?
J kept Whisper for a week. No amount of reading up prepared me for the sheer hard work of getting to the stables every morning before 9am, fetching a barrow (inconveniently kept a long walk from the yard), forking out the muck and urine- soaked straw (Whisper was a highly productive pony), struggling back to the muck heap (an even longer walk), getting fresh straw, bedding it down and forking it up to bank along the stable walls, scrubbing out the water buckets and refilling, packing a haynet then lugging it back. Then realising with dawning horror that it all had to be done again in the late afternoon! No wonder toffs have grooms.
The next job, since the pony was not being turned out this week owing to not yet having established its place in the pony-pecking-order, was exercise: we learned to lunge a pony. A scary experience: they tend to go wild in the lunge pen, kicking up their heels and charging around. I didn’t feel we were ever totally in control to be honest - the pony didn’t seem to know it was supposed to stay at the other end of the lunge rope at all times and kept veering towards us. But it was infinitely preferable to the terror I felt whenever J mounted one unpredictable ton of live and bucking bronco.
Having said that, Whisper behaved herself beautifully when ridden after the first disaster: but having witnessed it…. seeing my child thrown off and that heartstopping moment when she was lying in a crumpled heap…… well, to be honest I don’t think I will ever feel quite the same about riding again. But what can you do? As people always say, You can get killed crossing the road, etc etc.
In this seemingly endless way the week passed: we had all decided that should the vet pass her, we would go ahead and buy her. I know Pat had misgivings – the biggest problem was that J couldn’t, for the time being, ride Whisper in her lessons and that we were having to pay for full livery while Pat helped us with the pony’s taming – er training. Would the fun start soon? Fun was not how I'd describe it so far.
Whisper passed the vetting but was discovered to have sweet-itch. This is a nasty thing, an allergy to midge bites which can cause the pony to rub its neck and tail area raw, become very irritable, and even roll to ease the itching. The thought of an even more irritable Whisper was appalling and in any case Pat said she would be unwilling to use such a pony in the school, because of the rolling possibility. Not very likely, perhaps, and sometimes sweet-itch does not cause too many problems – but we couldn’t take the risk. To be honest I think we were all heartily relieved – though that didn’t ease to sadness of loading her into Pat’s husband’s box (bless him) and cleaning out her stable for the last time…. or J quietly removing Whisper’s carefully made name plates from the tackroom and crumpling them up without saying a word to anyone (I found them in her coat pocket.)
A happier sight was seeing Whisper turned out into the field back at her old stables and greeting each of her pony mates with a poignant brushing of muzzles.
J and I have been much taken with her suggestion that we carry on visiting Fox’s saddlery, picking out matching pony-wear, planning where to put the showing rosettes, but – here's the crucial bit - never buying the pony - !
The search continues....
The next job, since the pony was not being turned out this week owing to not yet having established its place in the pony-pecking-order, was exercise: we learned to lunge a pony. A scary experience: they tend to go wild in the lunge pen, kicking up their heels and charging around. I didn’t feel we were ever totally in control to be honest - the pony didn’t seem to know it was supposed to stay at the other end of the lunge rope at all times and kept veering towards us. But it was infinitely preferable to the terror I felt whenever J mounted one unpredictable ton of live and bucking bronco.
Having said that, Whisper behaved herself beautifully when ridden after the first disaster: but having witnessed it…. seeing my child thrown off and that heartstopping moment when she was lying in a crumpled heap…… well, to be honest I don’t think I will ever feel quite the same about riding again. But what can you do? As people always say, You can get killed crossing the road, etc etc.
In this seemingly endless way the week passed: we had all decided that should the vet pass her, we would go ahead and buy her. I know Pat had misgivings – the biggest problem was that J couldn’t, for the time being, ride Whisper in her lessons and that we were having to pay for full livery while Pat helped us with the pony’s taming – er training. Would the fun start soon? Fun was not how I'd describe it so far.
Whisper passed the vetting but was discovered to have sweet-itch. This is a nasty thing, an allergy to midge bites which can cause the pony to rub its neck and tail area raw, become very irritable, and even roll to ease the itching. The thought of an even more irritable Whisper was appalling and in any case Pat said she would be unwilling to use such a pony in the school, because of the rolling possibility. Not very likely, perhaps, and sometimes sweet-itch does not cause too many problems – but we couldn’t take the risk. To be honest I think we were all heartily relieved – though that didn’t ease to sadness of loading her into Pat’s husband’s box (bless him) and cleaning out her stable for the last time…. or J quietly removing Whisper’s carefully made name plates from the tackroom and crumpling them up without saying a word to anyone (I found them in her coat pocket.)
A happier sight was seeing Whisper turned out into the field back at her old stables and greeting each of her pony mates with a poignant brushing of muzzles.
J and I have been much taken with her suggestion that we carry on visiting Fox’s saddlery, picking out matching pony-wear, planning where to put the showing rosettes, but – here's the crucial bit - never buying the pony - !
The search continues....
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home