So this horse. She's about seventeen hands, which is big. I mean, she's not that big when you look at her in a field, but when you're sat on top of her... Then it's a long way down to the ground. Last time I rode a horse they were smaller, but the last time I rode a horse I was a lot smaller, too.
It all started while I was round at Karen's sisters. I'd had a few gins, and one of her friends came round in riding gear.
Well, it's a bit of a red rag to a bull, isn't it? Soon I was talking about how great it was to be able to ride, how I'd not ridden in ages, and how I would jump at the chance again. After all, I explained, I'd done
loads of riding before I joined the army. (While not technically untrue, I rather neglected to mention that the riding I had done had been on brain-dead riding school ponies with about as much life in them as a stick of old celery.
Well, it just so happened that Lou was riding a horse that belonged to an old lady who didn't want to ride any more. Abby was an eight year-old horse who was getting fat through lack of exercise, and Lou was absolutely delighted that she'd found another willing volunteer to help ride and exercise her. (That's exercise the
horse, I'm talking about. Before you make up your own jokes.)
So, a few days later, I turned up at the stables to be met by Lou, who introduced me to Abby. I looked up, and then I looked up some more, and then, just about at cloud level, was this thing's head.
"You're not seriously thinking about riding that thing, are you?" asked the little voice inside my head.
"Why don't you get her tacked up?" Lou asked. "I'll stay on hand in case you've forgotten anything. "
I took a deep breath. This should be do-able. I'd seen it done enough times. The trouble was, all the riding school ponies used to arrive ready-to-ride. I picked up a brush and started to rub the brown mountain down, trying not to appear too wary of its enormous hooves. Once or twice she shifted and I had to fight the urge to run for the other end of the stable, but we got there in the end. I even managed to pick the dirt out of her hooves and fit her shin protectors; not a small task when you're crouching under enough weight to squash you flat.
Then came the time to put the saddle on. I swear, I got it the right way round, really. It's just that the horse was facing the wrong way. As for getting the bridle on. Have you ever tried to get a horse to accept a lump of metal into its mouth when it had made its mind up not to?
Thankfully, Lou was patient with me, and didn't mind that I was about as clued up as brick layer on the space shuttle. She offered to walk with me
"until you've got the measure of the bloody cow." which was the first time that I suspected something might not go quite to plan.
Abby started normally enough. She went pretty much where I wanted her to. She stopped when I pulled on her reins. She even trotted for me when I gave a little squeeze with my heels. But Lou was telling me things I really didn't like the sound of. "She's just so unpredictable." She was saying. "She needs a lot of firm handling when she decides to play up. You'll have to be sure not to take any nonsense from her. The first time I got on her back she threw me right off, so you can see why the old lady's so scared of her. She can be a right bloody madam when she wants to be."
But it was fine. We got back in one piece, even though Lou had spent the whole half hour telling me horror stories, Abby seemed to be as sweet as could be. I helped clean up the stables and arranged to come back at the weekend, glad that something (for once) had gone well.
Lou called for me early, and I decided to get Abby tacked up on my own. Of course, the horse had other plans for the day, and took a deep breath which swelled her up so much that I couldn't even get her girth strap on. (That's the bit that straps the saddle in place.) It took both of us about ten minutes to get her to give in, and even then she took a chunk out of Lou's back for her trouble. Such a sweet natured creature!
Well, you've probably guessed by now that things didn't go to plan this time. As soon as I was on Abby's back, she decided to take me for a walk. "Woah." I said, pulling back on the reins. I wanted to wait for Lou, if only to find out which route we were taking. But Abby didn't like that idea. She set off out of the yard and down the road without even bothering to wait for traffic. I pulled back on the reins again. "Abby - Stand
still."
She did - Until I relaxed the reins - then she head off down the hill again; this time at a trot. Yet again, I tried to fight her to a stop. I wanted to move off on my own terms. I needed to feel that I was in some sort of control, even if it was only having access to a handbrake. By this time Lou had caught up.
"I've not got the slightest control over her." I told her, starting to feel a bit nervous.
"Told you she was a cow." Lou said. "She's got her friend down this road, and I think she wants to go and visit. Just keep her tight and don't take any nonsense. You'll probably have to force her to carry on past the farm where she likes to go."
But it wasn't that simple. Abby got faster and faster, until she was trotting happily towards the farm with her friend. I was beginning to get highly pissed off by being a helpless passenger, and decided to try again to hold her back. But it was no use. Lou did her best to get a grip of her, but she saw the gate to the farm had been left open. With a defiant neigh, Abby took off at a canter to the courtyard, with me pulling on the reins for all I was worth.
As we bolted into the farmyard, Abby picked up speed. I was swearing and shouting, pulling on the reins and watching a rapidly approaching five-bar gate.
"She's going to jump it." I realised, as she picked up speed.
It was decision time. I wanted to jump, but I knew I wouldn't stand a chance of getting clear in time. I tried to concentrate on getting myself forward, bringing myself into the proper jumping position, at the same time as making one last tug at the reins. "Fucking
stop you bitch!"
And she did.
I let out a sigh of relief and wondered how long it would take before Lou could catch up with me and let me get down. Abby was nose to nose with the other horse, and not paying me the slightest attention. Perhaps I could just slip off now, while she was quiet.
"Don't let her get to close to that other horse!" Lou shouted, alarmed. "She'll - "
At that very moment, Abby and the other horse recoiled from each other as if they'd been bitten. Both of them reared onto their hind legs and I found myself clinging onto the saddle with both hands, any pretense of holding the reins properly now long forgotten. Lou grabbed at her bridle, swearing and furious, as Abby spun about and bucked with her back legs, arching her back and doing her best to shake me off.
I was a shaking wreck by this time. "I think I need to come off now. " I said. Lou took over, and the horse even bolted for her. She ran out of the farm and up the hill, before Lou finally managed to get her under control and back on all four legs again.
For my part, I was just glad to be safely on the ground. Lou couldn't stop apologising, and neither could I. I'd have settled for not shaking.
So I walked back home on two legs. Disappointed that my attempt to get back in the saddle had gone so horribly wrong, but happy at least that I still had the ability to get home without the aid of a flashing blue light.
I won't be riding Abby again. I think I'll try the Donkeys at Blackpool next time I feel the urge.
