An Old Tale

I love hearing stories of days gone by. Gasping in horror, cringing at the political incorrectness, wishing I was born before the era of Health and Safety.

 Dad used to regale tales of him and his brother causing mayhem – crashing their canal boat into a “modern” cruiser to reveal the owner sitting on the toilet; or the toddler (I forget which brother it was) cycling on his tricycle through the Armistice Parade on his way to his grandparents while his parents hid their faces; or the more recent ones which include my Mum. And the hammer and her dislocated finger.

One day, I’ll become famous for writing these stories down and causing people to cry with laughter.

One lady at my yard has just as many stories as my Dad. Most of them include escapades out hunting (in reference to yesterday’s blog, perhaps that’s why I’m not so keen on going hunting) and she often tells us about her riding school in the 80s.

A couple of weeks ago we were talking about our plans for the day and I said, “my task for today is to wear the Duracell Bunny out”. 

We moved on to talking about energy levels and how best to take it out of them. N.B. I found that medium trot for ten minutes in the school with Matt last week stopped him spooking at ghosts.

She then told me the following story. 

There was a livery on my yard who had an Irish horse. Little horse, but bags of energy. He never seemed to tire. 

Then one day she came to me and asked if I’d take him on working livery. Her job had changed, or she had less time. Whatever the reason was. 

Now I didn’t really want him in my school. Who could ride him? So I said “okay, I’ll have him on a weeks trial”.

That Saturday this horse escorted a hack at 9am with one of my grooms, a girl like you. Competent. Then at 10am another groom took him on the next hack. Then at 11am he did a lesson.

We had half an hour break for lunch at 12, and he did another three lessons after lunch. He was knackered! 

But I tell you what, I never had a problem with him in all the years he was in the riding school.

I gulped. That was a pretty intensive workout for anyone, and I was very glad the Duracell Bunny I had to ride wasn’t as fully charged as that one! 

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