for sale?

People who know about horses like Tom and my friend Sarah, will tell you that horses want an easy life. They are prey animals and all their reactions and behaviours are somehow related to not ending up as some predator’s dinner. The Horse Whisperer, Monty Roberts and his sidekick in the UK, Kelly Marks, (and obviously Tom and Sarah) will demonstrate how they can take the most disturbed, belligerent and ingrained behaviour in horses and within minutes turn what can sometimes be an extremely dangerous animal into your best friend.

All it takes is letting your horse know they can trust you completely and they don’t need to be in charge of safety and security. They no longer need to be looking out for lions behind trees because you’re there for them. You are the boss and you do the moving about of them, not the other way round. And when they’re happy to be moved and trust you, you can just Be With Them.

Now I have 2 horses, well ponies really. One is a girl called Fern and I love her and she loves me. She has had some terrible treatment at the hands of men but she still trusts me and I trust her we can find our space and Be There.

The other is a boy. His name is Freddie. Other than being caught in the drift on the New Forest, where he was born. I don’t know that he has suffered any ill treatment from people. The drift can be fairly brutal but he has only known love and care since then. I love him but he only tolerates me. He is definitely in charge and he does not believe for one minute that I can deal with any lions should they appear to eat him. He keeps a constant vigil of his territory and won’t allow anything in there that he hasn’t first checked out. All local dogs know to give him a wide, wide berth. No running away from predators for Freddie – he takes on all comers and I hate to think what would happen if he ever caught one. His first defence is to give chase. And he has chased dogs, cats, squirrels, sheep, boys, footballs, the postman, lost ramblers, Fern and so on. And he’s a thief. You can’t put anything down without him running off with it. He has taken buckets, gloves, hats, scarves, a pair of shears, a broom, the rake. He can pull the wires out of the electric fence generator so that it doesn’t work and then he pulls down the fencing. When he finishes his breakfast he throws the bucket, with some accuracy, at me. For some reason he will allow me to put a halter on him but then he will grab the lead rein between his teeth. He is perfectly capable of walking with attention and at my speed, but he has taken off and left me flat on my face and of course he knows he can do that now.

He has never forgiven me for taking him to the vet. I think it all stems from being gelded last year. He was coming on really well – he seemed a happy chappy and I could walk him through the village and round and about without any trouble. Then one day I walked him to the vet’s and left him there. The next day I picked him up and he was a lesser man.
He hasn’t trusted me since. He doesn’t hate me as much as he hates the vet who he dragged around the field when she came to give him his flu jab, but he doesn’t like me.
He gives me a look that says – Revenge is a dish best served cold.

I think he’s still plotting