Start at the beginning
2nd post
3rd post
4th post
5th post
When I started going to the stables, I didn’t really have any ambition to ride again. These bones and joints are getting on a bit and I’m sure I don’t bounce when I fall like I used to. Maybe that’s why the bones and joints are feeling it so much – because of the falling and bouncing I did when I was young.
Anyway, Bev had always promised we’d go out for a ride in nearby woods and I was up for that. The problem was, Maverick wasn’t sturdy enough to take anyone for a ride. Even Mia hasn’t been on his back since the first time.
Chatting to Bev, she recommended I get a ‘Happy Hacker’ – no, not someone who delights in taking over computers and such, but a pony I could ride without expectations. No show-pony, eventer or dressage for me!
I looked and Bev sent a few advertised horses, but none caught my eye.
We needed one that would be big enough to do what I needed – I’m quite tall, bigger than I used to be and a Shetland, though mighty for their size, would not only look ridiculous, it wouldn’t cope, I’m sure.
Also, I needed one that was local because of transporting it to the stables.
Of course, I’d keep it at Bev’s yard, there’s plenty of room and lots of spare stables. We’d need to clean one out and that’s it!
She sent one and it looked lovely, but too far away, another was an ‘experienced’ ride and Bev didn’t want me to chance it. ‘The older you get, the faster you were.’ That doesn’t apply only to motorcycles.
She sent one – expensive. “It’s almost a grand per leg!”
I didn’t want an old one, I didn’t want a young one or that one because…
I was starting to think that I wasn’t ready to have a horse because I always had a reason to not be interested.
Then, Bev said, “Come on, we’ll go to see Lee. I’ve told him what you want and he thinks he’s got what you need.”
OK.
Bev told me not to get my expectations up about how the stables or horses were kept. Keep my mouth shut and ignore stuff.
“He deals with Gypsy ponies,” she said.
Ah… forewarned is forearmed.
I drove just to the other side of town. Not far at all. To somewhere you’d need to know where it was to find it. Off a couple of side-roads, down a country track. I’ve lived here a long time and I never knew it existed.
A gate stood open and three or four dogs stood in the yard at the end of long and hefty chains. The dogs, mainly German Shepherds, took a lot of interest. We parked up, Bev texted and a man came out of a house at the top of the yard. We got out, I put on my wellies and we went across to him.
I kept tight hold of Mia’s hand and told her to NOT get close to those chained dogs!
I didn’t tell her to NOT go close to ANY of the dogs… and a loose one came bounding up to her, with a tiny piece of twig in its mouth. It threw the piece of twig at Mia and it landed on her wellie. She picked up the twig before I could say anything and threw the twig. The dog stuck to her like a limpet for the whole visit. When it lost the twig, it found another and the game went on.
Lee showed us a pony tacked up and ready to go. A girl got on it and walked it around. “There you go,” he said. “How about that one?”
I studied the pony. “It’s not big enough,” I said.
He took a step back and studied me. He nodded.
“Come on, then,” he said. He looked at my feet and nodded again. “You’re going to need those wellies,” he said. “Come to the barn.”
I followed him to the barn and Bev took hold of Mia. She then saw her cousin and they went off to chat whilst I followed Lee.
A huge agricultural sized barn stood at the top of the slope. In front of the barn stood metres of deep mud and yes, I’m glad I had my wellies on!
“Are you alright climbing the gate?” Lee asked.
“I’ll manage,” I said.
We climbed over the gate and the dog that had been Mia’s new constant companion wriggled under the gate to follow us.
His name was Dog.
“Gerrawaywiyer, Dog!” and the dog scuttled away, running under the bellies of the ponies in the barn. I had never seen so many ponies in one space. The barn was big, but it was packed! We moved between the ponies, shoving them to one side so we could get through. They all showed affection for Lee, my guide and that surprised me. He had so many, but knew about them all.
“This one, she’s a good one. She’s broken, almost human, this one,” he said.
She didn’t spark my interest. “Too small, still,” I said.
Lee nodded, unoffended.
“This one, and this one,” he showed me. All the same size. I was beginning to feel like we’d wasted Lee’s time – and ours.
The dog snapped and lunged at the ponies’ feet and hung off their tails. I was amazed he didn’t get stamped on, but Lee took no notice.
We clambered over the gate and he said, “I might have one or two others in the other barn.”
Another barn. How many horses can one bloke own?
We trudged down the muddy yard. Mia, Bev and her cousins were already there, and the cousin’s elder daughter was studying a pony.
“This one’s a good’un,” Lee said. “He’s not cut, but he’s quiet.”
Not cut = not castrated. He’s a stallion. Lee was also not quite sure that he was broken…
“This one over here is cut and he’s broken, but he’s smaller than the first,” Lee said.
He must have caught the disappointment in my eye. “I’ve got this one,” he said. “He’s rising two, but he’s cut, but I’m not sure if he’s been ridden.”
The pony, standing in a lonely corner, tied up, head down was nothing like I’d envisioned for my first pony. He was too small, too young, probably unbroken and totally the opposite of what I was looking for.
“How much?” I said.
I stood with the pony for a little while and decided I wanted him.
Bev’s cousin’s kids were all trying to persuade me to buy the stallion. “Look, he’s quiet,” the elder girl said, jumping onto his back. He’s quiet enough, I’ll give him that, but I didn’t want a stallion – plus he had a weird little moustache that I really didn’t like.
“I’ll take him,” I said, pointing to the one in the back.
