Happy Christmas

Eleven years ago, I loaned out our ex-racehorse, Chancer, to a lady called Nicky, complete with a loan agreement that had more dotted i's and crossed t's that you can imagine. From the outset she has treated him as her own, taking the best care of him and never leaving me in any doubt that we had made the right decision. From time to time, Julie who owned him before me, and myself have gone over to see him, kiss him on his nose, and give him a warm hug (and an illlicit packet of Polos). He has always looked well-cared for. Nicky is always happy for us to turn up when we like.

Chancer would have been very valuable if he had lived up to his sire's record of success. Horsechesnut is one of the most famous racehorses in the world for his wins in South Africa. 

Chancer was the more er, laid back type, and didn't really see the benefit of running fast, or at all. 

Nothing will change in reality, but we thought it was more than time for Chancer to be Nicky's and only Nicky's so we left her a card telling her the good news. Hopefully she will enjoy her Christmas present who is now 21. Update: actually she tells us she likes things exactly as they are and knowing that there is always a fall back position for Chancer. Has to be the happiest loan agreement ever known!

Even after 11 years he remembers how to do his 'carrot' stretches.

Prince of Pepperbox

 

Very sadly, Prince's field mate who stayed out at night with him when the big horses went in, died of colic. Luckily, the yard owners had another pony they could put in the field with Prince so that he wasn't alone. I think he likes him:

Night night, sweet repose

 

 

Several of my friends have lost their precious horses recently. I know that the pain is immense. We all wish that they could live forever, or at least that we could leave at the same time. This poignant photograph was taken by another friend of mine, she lost a soulmate of hers not very long ago; it makes you see the beauty in things. Poetry in a picture.

Two Stroke

I met a very special little horse today - one of those 17 hand horses in a 11.2 hh suit. Diesel is a four year old Shire horse who has lived an idyllic, almost semi-feral life, as a youngster. My friend Claire has recently been enlisted to begin training him for driving, the only issue being that he doesn't want (or know) how to be caught, and doesn't like anyone touching his face or the lower parts of his legs. Claire, who worked with Spotted Pony, Barney who appears on the front of one of my books, knew exactly where she wanted to start. Clicker training! Only problem, he wouldn't accept treats from her hand. I advised her to try different foodstuffs but couldn't resist the temptation to go and meet him myself.

Diesel arrived with a headcollar on but until he accepts having his face touched, it doesn't seem like a good idea to take it off. Claire's first concern is to 'seduce' his face and show him that it is pleasant to have it touched. With a soft scarf to hand, we began by offering him coarse mix as a clickered treat and for the first time he began to softly take food from the hand. 

Having found the key, Claire and I then took it it in turns to start touching his face and asking him to touch the scarf and our hands. All the time he was very focused and really thinking about what he was doing. 

Leaving Claire with the scarf, I was no longer needed, but I imagine I will find some excuse to go and see him.

p.s. David informs me that two stroke is made with petrol not diesel. Sort of spoils the pun.

And there it is! He is allowing himself to be caught. Always best to use one headcollar over another, if it is already on and not doing any harm, until you can almost guarantee that he will allow himself to be caught. For the Prince lovers, the horse behind Diesel is a Prince too. 

Christmas Present

This morning I received a mysterious parcel in the post which revealed a delightful book created by Hilary Charlsworth about her two ponies Mancha and Gato. These two had arrived direct from Bodmin Moor and the book traces their progress from being entirely wild to being ridden. David and I called in at her house on the way to our holiday in Kent in order to help and advise how to get a headcollar off Gato, before it became far too tight. Fortunately I was able to get it off towards the end of the session and he looked at me with disbelief when he felt the pressure released from his head. 

On Top of the World

A long while ago I promised Ruth that we would help to move Prince if she ever felt the need to. Today all of her work and skills bore fruit, and together with our safe method of moving semi-feral ponies, Ruth, Julie, David, Carrie, and I were able to move him from one yard to another without any drama.

Ruth took the opportunity to give him a little practice at at least looking at a trailer before we moved him.

Step one was to put him in a stable with a nice feed and the top door closed.

Then we quietly backed the trailer up towards the door and set up panels between the door and the open ramp. Ruth reassured him with clickered treats and we closed the panels down a little so that he was encouraged to take a good look at the ramp ..

He loaded himself and then David calmly closed the gates and put the safety gate across the top. Prince ate his second feed while David closed up the ramp.

A sedate journey around Salisbury and towards Pepper Box Hill led to a farm right on the very very top.

Ruth led him up to the field where three horses were waiting to meet him. 

He soon looked completely at home and the other three treated him like the return of the prodigal son.

Jackpot!

We had a secret mission to perform today which meant going back to the yard where Prince and Jack are kept. Unfortunately Jack's owners weren't able to make our last appointment but it appears that it wasn't needed! While we were making arrangements for Prince I came across this little scene in the stable block - Jack having his legs washed with gentle shampoo and hardly a burr to be seen on him. Only a few weeks ago he would have been kicking away any attention to his legs. (Incidentally I would advise hats for this sort of activity.)