Bandaging Braveheart

Yes, Pony-girl has been practising for Clyde's upcoming trip in the trailer, wrapping his knobbly thickset hocks in padding as tenderly as if he were a thoroughbred with legs made of glass. On a countdown to Blade’s Hill Mini-Showjumping, two days to go and excitement mounting. Pony-girl seems more excited than nervous, astonishing for a girl who can get worked up into a state about taking the school bus a whole week before the dreaded deed must be done: “But when do I show him my ticket?” “When you get on, darling child.” “But do I have it in my hand when I get on… or shall I get it out afterwards?” "Play it by ear my sweetheart, why don’t you.” “How will he know where I’m going?” “I think perhaps you could tell him, my precious?” “But what if he doesn’t hear me? Should I say it again? Cos if he did hear me, then I’ll have said it twice won’t I?” etc… so I am only too happy that the prospect of taking Clyde round a course of 12 jumps in a strange school miles from home amid people who can really ride, on proper ponies, is filling her with starry-eyed excitement. Clyde may be a little surprised when the sick-bag comes out, but nothing much fazes our Clyde.

The sick bag? Once our constant companion. We went to visit our first, our very first pony-prospect in September, a nervy mount named Sixpence who nevertheless impressed us with her pretty looks and the way she went on the bit immediately. J put her over a round of jumps in the seller’s manege, drew to a halt beside us and got off. Throwing the reins into the owner’s hand, fearless pony-girl cried “I love her! Please, please let’s buy her! I’m so happy!!” - and was promptly sick all over the floor. I learned to carry a towel and several plastic bags with me at all exciting times, and I think I will conceal some in the boot ready for Sunday.

Things to do Sunday morning: polish Clyde till he shines, bandage his knobbly knock-knees with the jolly Winnie-the-Pooh bandages we won in a pre-pony raffle (they will look well with his long, grumpy face won’t they?) check pony-girl over for stable stains, and attempt to budge Clyde from the bottom of the box ramp where he may be digging his heels in, saying “No way!” I plan to hang a temptingly stuffed haynet inside as food gets Clydey lurching forwards enthusiastically without fail. He is very like RPD in this respect.

No idea what heights she is jumping (probably 2ft on the first outing unless Pat has other ideas) and we don’t expect them to win anything (not even 6th rosette!) as the competition is hot and strong… butif they get round without mishaps.. without boltings and refusals (that would be Pony-girl of course) and oh! a clear round for our first show would be really, really wonderful, wouldn’t it?