Bye Bye Balls

I’m so sorry Amor. What can I say, it had to be done.

Exactly a month ago, as I was busy making the last preparations before the birth, Amor had his balls chopped off. Considering his temperament, current location and sales potential the answer gave itself really. It was not worth keeping him as a stallion.

As opposed to Richard who had his cut off under local anesthetic standing up one afternoon the summer he was two, Amor was put out completely before they were removed at the vets. Everything went by the book and he is now happily getting on with his new life as a gelding.

The mare’s owner’s ten year old daughter overheard me tell her mother that Amor had just been castrated and was not impressed.

“Promise that you won’t do it to him,” she said accusingly to me pointing at the little two days old sleeping creature in the corner of the stable.
“Well, it depends on…” I tried, but was interrupted by her most insistent little voice.
“No, promise!? Promise you won’t do it!”
“Hopefully, I won’t have to, and it certainly wouldn’t happen for years anyway,” I said quietly hoping this would satisfy her.
“Now you can give him a cuddle if you like,” I added to distract her as the owner of the balls in question woke up and looked at us.
Not totally convinced she nodded her head and quietly made her way over to him to pat his neck.

The thing is, unless you want to seriously breed from them there are lots of good reasons to castrate stallions. So to be able to keep my promise and keep him entire he would have to be extremely talented. Well, I can always hope.

Don't Worry Jeremy Clarkson

Despite my recent attempts at “car blogging” I can ensure you that it’s a passing stage. I do realize that when it comes to cars I am most certainly talking out of my backside.

My passion is and will always be horses. To me cars are mainly a very convenient form of transport –to the stables and back. Although I fully support your stand on caravans, Vauxhall Vectras and health and safety regulations.

You will be pleased to know that I have joined the group “Jeremy Clarkson should be Prime Minister” on Facebook and I encourage all my friends to do the same. If you can get me to read several books about cars I am sure you can get most people interested in politics, which is sorely needed.

That was all really, you are the man!

F&%#ing Farrier

When the farrier came out to take off the mare’s shoes just after the birth and she wasn’t standing quietly he hit her in the head with his hammer. Right… Not most people’s idea of horsemanship.

He did not seem to think that her just giving birth and her son harassing her to get milk at the time was reason enough for him to show some patience. Neither did he seem too worried about the damage he could have inflicted on her.

When I was told I didn’t know what to say. Or actually I did, but I am not going to list my whole repertoire of swear words here to describe how I feel about him. But to put it this way: He won’t be getting business from us again.

Just like there are bastard people there are bastard horses. And just like some people need to be taught a lesson, so do some horses. But still in the western world we choose to find other ways of doing it than stoning people to death or hitting them over the head with a hammer. Although it can be bloody tempting sometimes.

Instead we lock people up to prevent them from damaging themselves and others. But because jail sentences and economic sanctions are not really applicable on horses we sometimes have to resort to a well placed slap or two. Because as much as a crazy axe murder can kill you so could potentially an out of control horse.

500 kilos of uncontrolled flesh can cause a lot of damage. When I was working with horses full time I always assisted the farrier in his work. It mainly involved bringing endless cups of tea and providing the latest gossip from the yard but when a particularly bastard of a horse in my care was refusing to cooperate we had to resort to teaching him a lesson that involved a certain amount of violent action. But no hammer. The result was that after a few sessions he stood still and did as he was told. And I can assure you it was not because he was scared of us, he had just realised that as supposed to his owner we would not let him get away with walking all over us.

In a perfect world you would not let it get to that point. I have now got the chance to form the little baby foal the way I want. And there is no way I am letting some stupid ass farrier ruin that because he can’t control his temper.

I would much rather go through the seemingly impossible task of finding another capable farrier.

Just For the Record

In light of recent events I would just like to say that when I compared Marcus’ riding to the professionals in Tour de France I did by no means wish to associate him with what has turned out to be a bunch of lying blood smuggling tricot clad epo and testosterone junkies on bikes.

My point was simply that he is a real professional and most of the others are not. Besides Richard always shows up for his drug tests without any protest and he has most certainly not been to Mexico lately...

That was all.

Highs and Lows

Whilst I was cheering Richie into second place in the jump race on Thursday the mare started to show colic symptoms.

Thursday evening turned out to be a perfect example of the unpredictability that comes with horses. Although being an excellent source of recreation and relaxation they can also cause extreme worry and distress. Thursday certainly had all of that and more.

Due to a heavy course and Richie not quite being in peak condition we were just hoping that he would be among the three first across the finish line in this particular race. But when he was suddenly neck to neck with the leader about 200 metres before home the excitement rose and I could not stop myself from jumping up and down cheering Richie on.

But the excitement of Team Richie was not enough to make him beat his hardest competitor over jumps this season. He came second but the initial disappointment was soon replaced with delight that he had under the circumstances run a very good race. You can’t win them all.

So the planned celebration of Richie in general that was taking place in the evening was still on with the team in good spirits. But then just as we got home I received the phone call that I always dread. The mare was showing signs of colic.

Colic must be every horse owner’s biggest nightmare. So unexpected, so variable, so out of your control and so potentially deadly. Needless to say we threw ourselves in the car. The Stud Muffin on the way to his first colic watch and me praying that I would not have to experience another one with a deadly outcome.

Down the yard the girls had already started walking her around and the vet had been called and was on his way. The now three week old little colt was happily charging up and down the arena seemingly unaware of his mother’s pain.

Then the vet came, examined her, administered some drugs and went. The Stud Muffin went back home for supplies and camping beds and I walked round and round the outdoor school with a lethargic mare and an overjoyed foal. At least he was enjoying all the attention.

A long night followed. Fortunately the Stud Muffin was there with me. Despite his relatively newfound horse “interest” he was excellent. Luckily the mare got better rather than worse and when I walked her out for the third time at 4.30 she was so desperate for food she dragged me down the path towards the grass verge. Always a good sign.

And the next morning when she tried to bite me as I gave her a little bit of hay over her door I knew she would be ok.

Yesterday, with happiness restored in the little family, I decided to go and see Richie. Three days after the race he was still lame on the leg he had bashed on the last fence to home –which in hindsight might have cost him the victory – and so tired he looked like he had been drugged. When I stroked his neck and head he just quietly put his head on my shoulder without even trying to nibble me or bite my hair.

I know it’s normal that they get tired after a tough race and that he will soon bounce back but it still breaks my heart to see him like that. I do hate it when they are not well.

I Loose

Congratulations to my sister on the very unexpected purchase of a 2005 BMW M3 series estate!

But I still have the nicest horse…

Let's Not Forget Richie

In stark contrast to the maternal hormone overload and all the baby foal fuss currently taking place, Richie has proved that he is well hard. After kicking off the season with a second place in a flat race on the National Day he has just gone from strength to strength.

Considering his first race this season was in very good company and he was only beaten by a few lengths it was a very good start indeed. He then followed up with another second place in his first ever jump race. Again a solid result, but personally I was just overjoyed he made it back in one piece. Saying that, he was in the very capable hands of British jump jockey Marcus and got the best possible run for a first time out.

With it being a quiet time of year in the UK for jump races, Marcus who is normally second jockey to one of the best UK jump trainers, did not seem to mind being flown over to us for a ride and a bit of a party.

Watching him ride was like tuning into Tour the France after spending 20 minutes swearing at the backside of some slightly overweight idiot amateur cyclist on the way home on roads that made it impossible to overtake. His riding could not even be compared to what normally takes place at our little racecourse. Here was a professional at work.

It was overheard said among the more knowledgeable punters afterwards that here was a jockey that actually dared give the horse his head, resulting in it actually hurdling properly. It was a proud Team Richie that left the race course that day and already the following morning made a request for Marcus for his next race.

And he accepted. In between the jump races Richie also clocked up a victory in a flat race sponsored by a chain of training studios. This resulted in me now getting 3 months free training as my dad felt he did not need it - Anyone who has ever laid eyes on both of us is likely to disagree.

But regardless of the fitness level of his owners, or lack of such, Richie was certainly on a roll. On the day of the next jump race Richie appeared with two grooms hanging off him in a desperate attempt to stop him from doing handstands in the parade ring and contain his energy to the actual race. But Richïe had plenty of go in him and Marcus managed to squeeze every bit of it out of him and take him first over the finish line in a beautiful finish.

It was just one of those moments when everything explodes. Joy, excitement, pride and most of all love for that little horse that I have spent so much time with. He might act like a complete idiot at times but at the end of the day he has a heart of gold. Now he had also shown that he has the talent needed.

So Team Richie is obviously in good spirits before the next race on Thursday. Marcus is booked, Richie is so fit the girls are refusing to ride him out and the jump jockey we use for training won't charge us for his services as he claims he can teach him no more.

The only problem on the horizon is the bloody weather. He does not like heavy going and at this rate it will be. But then saying that, with a professional on board you never know. I can’t wait – Go Richie!

A Control Freak Out of Control

I had just entered my fourth hour of sleep in the last 48 when the alarm went off. My body tried to win the battle by practically sending me straight back to sleep the minute I had turned the intense ringing off, but lost. My head and heart were prepared for it and made me stagger across the room to get dressed. I had to make sure they were ok.

Half an hour later I quietly entered the stable block and looked over Bellis’ door. In the corner was the perfect little foal asleep while his mother kept watch.

They were fine. The relief. The happiness. No amount of sleep or money could have bought that feeling.

When I told the mare’s owner I had driven out to check on mother and child at four o’clock in the morning to make sure they were okey, I got the following text message back:

“You are mad! :-)”
“I know! The control freak tendencies are out of control :-)”

Really in the long run I have three options: 1. Give up my day job and start my own yard so I can look after him all the time myself. 2. Give up my day job and live off benefits so I can be down the yard everyday and look after him myself or 3. Let go a little and hope for the best.

At the moment I have opted for option number 3, however difficult it is. My financial situation does not allow for anything else at the moment. Of course number 1 would be ideal, but then life isn’t. So I will just have to grind and bear it for now. It is very difficult though!

Day 1: First trip out in the field. He soon got so tired he needed a little rest...