.....the cold weather cometh

In my eternally optimistic way, I had hoped Blue would have sufficient shelter and warmth in the field with his bespoke, shaker style field shelter and winter rugs on that he would be able to manage the winter. However Blue made it quite clear that this would just not suffice for an animal of his calibre and I would simply have to move off my rent free field to a more suitable venue. He demanded electricity, top of the range food and constant attention. I ignored his requests initially so in response he cut his leg. Personally I think he did it in a fit of teenage rebellion however I cant prove it due to being completely baffled as to how he could manage the injury in the equine equivalent of a padded room. So as always, he got his way and off we went on another walk to a local livery yard. There were 3 other liveries there at the time and upon my arrival with my muddy, scraggy haired monster they made it quite clear I wasnt welcome on their virtually private yard and spoke to me only to tell me what I couldnt do. Thankfully, I suffered negative indifference at the hands of my equine on a daily basis so it was of little concern to me. Blue cleaned up nicely with a good bath (the first item on the endless list of things I wasnt allowed to do) and some attention to his leg. He was very lethargic and under the weather though despite it healing so I decided to call in the vet. It was to be the start of a beautiful friendship. I have spent so much money with them over the past year and a half they have taken to sending me a hand signed christmas card which I probably bought for their entire clientele list. After endless tests, prodding and poking and sticking an item which vaguely resembled a female sanitary product up his left nostril ( a personal low point in his life I would guess) it was decided that it was a virus and nothing could be done other than keep him warm, comfy and fed. Obviously in a recuperative 'nothing can be done' sort of way, his last rites were not required at any point. He had a bottle of green liquid which I am still to this day convinced is fairy liquid to boost his iron levels and after around a month he was back to his usual self. Unfortunately, Blues usual stabled self is not dissimilar to his usual field self just in minature, so the pacing and gazing out of the window was resumed.

.....branching out

Then came the time when we were ready to hit the road. There was little chance of us building up to a small amount of traffic and a tranquil environment, as his field is right next to the only road in and out of our village. I believe it is classed as semi-rural. Unfortunately, and I know most fellow horseriders will sympathise with this, semi-rural inhabitants drive like some terrifying Michael Schumacher/Jeremy Clarkson hybrid from hell. My only thinking is that they see horses on such a regular basis that the become blase and stop seeing them at all. Either that or they are all busier than a jeweller on valentines day and couldnt possibly slow down by 20 miles an hour for 100 yards while they pass you. I have had one rather unnerving experience when a woman came so close to me in her car that I actually kicked her back passenger window without taking my foot out of the stirrup. Best of all, she couldnt for the life of her understand why I was mad! Anyway, I digress. So I tacked Blue up in our now familiar routine of me tightening his girth, him biting me, me shouting at him, him looking wounded/disgruntled/disgusted with me, me questioning why I bought such a miserable nag, him questioning how he was so unfortunate as to end up with a slave driver such as me. I slapped on our brand new out of the bag reflective gear and off we went! Naturally the first piece of traffic we meet is an A reg, wheezing, 10mph horsebox, the type which is given a name by the owner (along the lines of Betsy, you know the type I mean) and has done in the region of 400,000 miles. Luckily it coughed and spluttered its way past us without incident and I thought we'd had our second Eureka moment. Thinking back to our first hack out he was again very well behaved and at that point I was baffled as to why he hadnt been ridden for so long. I have yet to mention the post sale story which emerged of actually the original owner had been too scared to ride him in the 2 years she'd owned him, and after a little investigation I found that every person I mentioned him to said "oh, so YOU'VE got Blue have you?" in a more than dubious tone. He is indeed famous around these parts, like a sort of rodeo legend of old. In an ironic twist, I also found that she had bought him to ride western. A less western horse you never did see and it gave me a little insight into her mindset. Needless to say he never embarked on his illustrious career as cattle herder, thankfully. Aside from anything else, he is frightened of cows. Along with sheep, plastic bags, crisp packets, dogs, bikes, children, footballs, kerbs, drains, bushes, other horses, old people, scooters, mud (seriously), birds, water, sand, concrete posts, grass if its at the wrong angle.....you get my drift.

.....then I spoilt it!

Sadly, all things must come to an end and I decided it was time that I put my lovely boy to work. I read countless books on re-training racehorses and bringing horses back into work and was enthusiastic to the point of fanaticism. Blue wasn't quite so keen. To my utter surprise he was positively lazy! I look back on this time, and am now aware of 2 things. Firstly, he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Secondly, he was more than likely shattered from the constant pacing. Anyway, we set off on our merry way towards the end goal of riding my steed, with plenty of groundwork and preparatory education on both our parts. He was fairly malleable and considering I was working him in an open field admittedly quite well behaved. After around 4-5 weeks of skittering around each other, Blue got disgustingly bored with being lunged and started misbehaving so I figured (why?!) it was probably time I rode him. I was ridiculously gung-ho about the whole matter, and saddled him up on my own with no assistance or mobile phone to hand. Another episode to look back on through splayed fingers! Thankfully, and I must give credit where its due for this, he behaved perfectly. He stood like a gentleman and did everything I asked. Cracked it! I naively thought. Again, we continued this new routine for a few more weeks, riding round and round the field which Blue quite enjoyed as he could still sneakily do his night watchman routine and check the perimeter despite my vaguely unwelcome presence. So on we bumbled in a sort-of mutual arrangement that if I didnt mess with him too much, he would to a point do what I asked.

.....the honeymoon period

So there I was, with an as yet undiscovered certifiable thoroughbred, standing at the gate of his new field (courtesy of my never before generous father). The thankfully short walk from old home to new had been interrupted several times by the fact he was so foot sore he could barely comprehend taking another step. He'll be fine with shoes on, right? Mint flavoured equine treats helped in the persuasion tactics. So off he went into his new home. I would like to say he strolled, or better meandered casually into his new home. However missiled (not strictly in the dictionary, but applicable here) would be more apt. He spent the next 24 hours pacing like a caged tiger to the point where there was (and still is) a bald path along the perimeter fencing. Now to many this would be a first indication that something was slightly amiss temperament wise, but I was smitten. I checked him 15 times in the space of 24 hours. Quite what I thought he would get up to in a square field with nothing more sinister than a rubber waterbucket for him to injure himself on I'm not quite sure. It took him around 3 days to stop cantering round, he played it cool after that and kept it to a manic trotting with the occasional burst of speed. A few weeks passed without incident and we got to know each other, me lovingly grooming him, him stamping his feet with impatience at the interruption to his pacing regime. He is the only horse I know that can live in a 3 acre field with previously untouched mid-summer grass and blazing sunshine, and lose 30 kilos with his own rigorously enforced exercise program. On the whole though, I was happy with my purchase and after initial scepticism on his part we stumbled into a steady routine with few demands on either of us.

....maybe I should explain

I thought it probably worthwhile to explain a little about us. I started riding at a young age, my mother curses the day she was idiotic enough to introduce me to an aged, eternally patient riding school equine as it has been love ever since. Not for me the 'horses come between toys and boys' motto. Toys were never interactive enough and then boys were far too uncompromising about muddy wellies, pony nuts imbibed by the washing machine (an innocent mistake) and the smell of manure which lingers constantly around me like some kind of ethereal aura no matter how many baths I have.
Blue entered my life while I was 'on a break' from horses, my unsuspecting partner of the time had almost begun to take for granted my shiny hair, and abundance of fingernails, when a friend mentioned a horse I might like to look at. Well it would have been rude not to! So off I went just out of casual interest to look at Blue. Rhapsody in Blue to give him his full title, which he quite often insists upon. The story of his past according to the seller goes as follows:
He's a lovely boy, I bought him off a friend of mine to help her out of a situation. Sadly I just cant afford to keep him, trust me if there was any other way I wouldn't be selling him (they all say that don't they, its a stock eBay response I have since noticed).
Ridden? oh..erm... well he hasn't been ridden in a while, to be honest I haven't had the time. He's a lovely boy though. (At this point Blue is looking at me disdainfully as if I have produced a noxious gas of some form) He's been lunged and sat on by a local girl but she doesnt have the time either. No one had the time it appears. He is perfect in every other way though! Does he load in a horsebox? oh no, he doesnt load. Is he good to handle? He can be a bit rude and aggressive, but he's a lovely boy really. Is he good out on the road? Well we led him to his current location (because he wouldnt load) and he only reared a couple of times, but that was probably the leaders fault. Her final little teaser was a gem. You see if I had the time/space/money/experience ( I forget which she actually used, but you get my drift) I would keep him a few months and sell him for 3 times as much!! Wow, I must snap him up instantly!

Stupidly.......I did.

....in the beginning

In the beginning came Blue. An ex-racehorse who is all style and no substance. Stunning to look at but with a decidedly indeterminable nature. He feels all people are beneath him, and tries his hardest when ridden work is attempted to put them there. His favourite activities involve gazing away into the distance with a wistful look on his face, inferring that anywhere out there in the world would be better than with this incompetent buffoon. Second to this is galloping around like a crazed gazelle, threatening to jump out of any enclosed area and gnashing with his teeth in an attempt to convince me that he could 'take me out' with a single gnaw. Unfortunately it didn't and in our mutual misfortune we ended up bound together (in a metaphorical although occasionally physical sense) for eternity, like a couple who married in a heady rush of 1960's enthusiasm only to find they now cant stand the sight of each other but are too far into the institutionalization process to abandon their quest to make each other miserable.
So this blog is our story (I shall try my best to make it unbiased from his point of view, but he's a miserable old knacker at times) and the story of how despite the apparent apprehension on both our parts, we were soon joined by 3 other crazy, chomping beasts!