Blue Day, Brave Heart

When we bought Clyde at Pat’s suggestion from a girl who was moving on to bigger and better things, I am ashamed to admit that we thought we were settling for second, or even third, best. The only criteria he filled on our list of essential attributes for Our Dream Pony were a) he was a boy b) he was cheap (you will recognise RPD’s input here.) He was not pretty, not silver dun, was going nowhere, set in his ways and too old to learn new tricks. He had big knobbly knees and his mane was hogged like the thuggish bullyboy mule we suspected him to be. Plus, he already had a rug, and it was not the jazzy pink and black Mark Todd of pony-mum’s dreams.

How shallow we were! OK he is a bit of a Cockney barrerboy and his face is best viewed with a sideways glance and then quickly away again, but that pony is one in a million. His solid calm means even nervous unhorsey pony-mum doesn’t mind standing by the big-teethed end and is venturing further rearwards every week! He doesn’t bite, kick or buck and he stands steady as a rock for his panicking Pony-girl when fighter planes divebomb his head. And I, no animal-lover, find my heart melting into a puddle at his keen courage and his trustiness and his warm sturdy body and the way his aloofness turns to excited jiggles and desperate ‘me! me!’ harrumphings at one glimpse of an apple. And all that would be more than enough to make him, our very ordinary stocky little fish-cart puller, a pony in a million. So you have to understand that any rosettes our little champion brings home are merely incidental and not the point at all.

Having said that, we find we are very keen to win them and it was the Combined Training at Blade’s Hill on Sunday. First came the dressage and PG and Clyde achieved a good score that put them second (even though, wait for it, PG got a 2 point penalty for forgetting the test again - yes, again. No, I didn't believe it either.) All they had to do to stay in second place was go clear in the jumping section, and while I hid behind the Portaloo (after Sudeley I have completely lost my nerve for jumping) go clear they did, and were presented with the Blue Rosette. (This was very suitable, for PG’s cheap Ebay gloves had been leeching dye all day and she had a bright blue face to match.) She was already pulling off saddle and showshirt when I, rubbing my hands in that calculating way we pony-mums have, pointed out that, since the dressage score is carried forward to all jumping classes, all they had to do was go clear in the 85cm class to get second place in that too.
“He can’t jump that high!” PG gasped.
“Well, Pat always says the only thing stopping him jumping big is err well, never mind that now.” (for what Pat says is: ‘that pony could jump anyfink if only YOU wasn’t on top of ‘im!’)
She was tempted… . “Can I retire if it looks really big when I get out there?”
“Of course! Just have a go!”
I wasn’t half so confident as I sounded, especially as I had just seen the jumps and gone white with shock, but I managed to walk between our trepid team and the arena until the last moment when I slid aside to reveal the view. PG’s eyes came out on stalks - “But they’re – “ Too late: Clyde was off, trotting confidently through the gate with his ears up and whisking his tail.
This time I went into the Portaloo. I was only gone a second and when I came out PG and Clyde were waiting outside which was quite a surprise. “Oh!” I gasped, “Did you have to retire? How far did you get?”
“Glub,” sobbed Ponygirl. “He – glub!”
“Never mind darling! Well done for trying!”
PG sobbed harder. “Oh mummy! He was fantastic! He just flew over them all!”

And he really had, so it was second place again for Darkest Braveheart, another blue rosette to add to his collection and a total of 26 points on the Blade’s Hill league table for real prizes should they be placed at the end of the year. Which doesn’t look as unlikely now as it did when we started out….