HUGELY IMPORTANT – Do not randomly kiss a horse who is trying to bite you!! Because that is asking for a hospital visit to have your nose sewn back on. This article is anecdotal and for your amusement only. It is not a true empirical study as I haven’t any statistical data due to having a […]
Now and then, when reading Facebook posts and comments in the various horsey groups I am in, I come across an exciting person. You know what I mean? They only make one small comment but you know they are special. And I don’t mean a whispered ‘special’, either. I was reading some post that does
After the last ice age, nomadic tribes rarely went anywhere without a few cannabis seeds tucked about their personage or luggage. It was positively de rigueur! This symbiotic joint migration (pun definitely intended) of plant and people was initially in the company of their canine followers but a few thousand years later the equines tagged along for the ride too.
Walk past any large livestock animal in the summertime, and the next thing you know, you have swarms of little black buzzing things zooming around your head and bombarding your face. They get in your eyes, ears, nose, and throat. And the only way to get rid of them is to run away screaming faster
9500 years ago a child was buried with a cat in Cyprus. I bet that kid poked that cat’s nose. So I looked up Turkish and Greek for “boop”.
No point in wanting something if you are not going to get off your arse and go for it. And your arse is quite instrumental in improving your riding seat.
The profits from the sales of The Yard will go towards a farm-based therapy centre for the terminally ill. A peaceful, wild and natural place.
There is a controversy bigger than Bitted v Bitless. Bigger than Shod v Barefoot. Bigger than Natural Horsemanship v Traditional Training. What is it? Tongue Clicking!
What the hell just happened? All I wanted to do was fill the water trough so the three-year-olds could have fresh water. The next thing I know, I am waving the hosepipe from side to side and shouting, “All I want is a bit of personal space!!!” while the babies look at me as if
Beautiful Equestrian Property For Sale In France In The Department of Vienne And The Region Poitou-Charentes (86500) This stunning equestrian property for sale in France comprises 3 houses: The main house is incredibly spacious and comprises: The bungalow has an adjoining door to the main house and comprises: The gite is next to the main house and comprises:
This handsome equestrian property for sale in France dates from the 1800s but was partly rebuilt and nestles in its own parkland of approximately 27 hectares of both grazing and woodland.
Who remembers “Chase Me Charlie” the cross between a jumping class and a gymkana game? Two uprights, one pole, and maybe if you were lucky a ground pole. Aim pony at obstacle. Gallop at it like a nutter. Hope like hell pony does not stop. If your pony clears the jump you are through to
Located in the rural commune of Cazes-Mondenard and in the centre of endurance riding country, this equestrian property is ideally placed in a horseperson’s heaven regardless of your discipline.
Stunning Equestrian Property For Sale in the Beautiful Haute-Vienne Department of France (87210) This exquisite equestrian property boasts four charming bedrooms, three of which have been newly carpeted. There are two elegant bathrooms and a large airy top floor that could be used for an office or a gym. Or perhaps you enjoy entertaining? Then
I used to say to my friends, have you seen so and so, because I haven’t seen them for ages. I was very naive at that time and I didn’t realise where they’d gone. I know now!
Modern coaches are geared up with an armoury of psychological cattle prods designed to keep you motivated until the proverbial cows come home.
Missy balked at the river which is hysterical given her eventing history. “Training, Helen! Next time we cross the Charente!” Gulp. The Charente is huge!
Pandemonium broke out again. The judge sent for a measuring stick. You could have heard a pin drop as he measured her. “14.3hh” he shouted.
Now, I always – ALWAYS – tell people to close the doors, due to marauding chickens and a bottomless pit of a barn cat looking for a place to invade.
… we crossed the road into a council housing estate. Still running, sweating and out of breath we kept going through the streets and then we stopped dead and we said in unison, ‘oh shit’.
My gelding, if he gets cold, he colics. Mild, usually, but it’s still a colic. He just collapses in a heap, and that’s that.
Humans have misread the common sense and self-preservation instinct of a mule as being stubborn for centuries; even turning their error into a self-perpetuating myth.
Shetland ponies are highly intelligent, very cute, full of character, and lots of fun to own. But be warned! That intelligence has a price! Here are some facts to consider before owning a Shetland pony.
We would ride them bareback to the forge – riding one horse, leading two or three. I was always told that my riding looked like a monkey playing the piano.
You can be as delicate as an archeologist at a dig, but guaranteed, the one time you use a bit more oomph, you will throw the hidden spoor all over the place.
If it looks like the donkey is killing another donkey or a horse – don’t worry. He’s playing. Donkeys play rough!
She grabbed hold of my pony’s bridle and started running flat out. Eventually Peter the pony finally deigned to canter, with no input from me, I should add.
I leaped in screaming her name to try and save her. I discovered the bed of the rean was like black quicksand, and her legs were stuck. It was sucking her in.
Rescuing a donkey can be tricky when you know little to nothing about donkeys. Find out what I learned and how I helped him to be happy and well adjusted.
I am a 5’2″ small adult. Teeny Tiny. My Belgian Warmblood horse is 17 hands high. Or to non-horsey people, 172.72cms. Enormous. Ladders are my friend.
Just because we can’t see, smell or hear as well as a prey animal we assume they are ‘talking’ bollocks. But they have been on this planet in one form or another for 55 million years compared to our rather pathetic 200,000 years.
It’s not so bad if you have a working washing machine. Mine gave me electric shocks. I became so scared I threw it out. I use a bucket now. Or the bath.
I lost the sensible bridge to stroll calmly across into the new and classier version of show jumping. Instead, I introduced myself to this unknown world by loudly shouting ‘fuck’. A lot.
Up until now, I have been passively observing this sloth-speed courtship with much curiosity and a little amusement – almost a social experiment, if you will.
There was one mare who wasn’t the size of a medium tank – the lead mare, who wasn’t carrying a foal. In a brilliant move, I hooked my train together with ropes going from pair to pair.
It is not the level you are riding at that will determine the quality of your peer group. It is your beliefs about what you are capable of, given the chance.
I am supposed to be learning to stand upright. In perfect balance. To correct a VERY BAD HABIT – folding forwards dramatically, and unnecessarily over jumps.
You get to a point where you just know you are “flogging a dead horse”.
I wondered if Albert Voorn, my coach’s coach, would be up for it. Always good to get an Olympian on board. If you’re going to get carried away, do it in style
Thank you France and your delightful obsessions with all things bureaucratic. For Christmas I am going to buy you a wad of carbon paper.
I am going to take a break from tradition and talk about something other than myself. Although I will still be using many sentences with ‘I’ in them – here comes the first one … I was scrolling through Facebook of an evening when I came across this picture of a Tennessee Walking Horse called
There are as many training methods out there as there are possible ideas in the minds of billions of humans.? Some of them are possibly nearly correct.? But they all have one thing in common – the need to eventually safely come to a stop and get off the rather large animal who was previously
There is a saying in Britain – you have to fall off 10 times before you can call yourself a rider.? In France it is 100 times!!? Therefore, I am not a rider.? And I never will be.? I point blank refuse to fall off.? I am too scared to do it in case I
So, I thought to myself, do I become a cartoon character or a sportswoman?? Or a painter?? Oooo – Architect! No.? What did I become?? A poop scooper.? Yes you heard (?) me correctly.? I shovelled shit.? Every day.? I put it into big piles.? I blocked holes in the hedges with it.? I used
Orfele D’Aunay does not seem to have a photo at the moment other than the header photo.? She is the one far left swishing her tail.? Orfele (Or Filly) is the wife of The Enchanted and the mother of Beatrice.? She is special.? Really special.? When she arrived here I was her 10th guardian even
What am I thinking?? I can’t do that!!? These are professional atheletes.? Being ridden by other professional atheletes.? I am a professional drunk.? Look at that first image.? That is more me.? No, not the woman hurling herself through the air on a massive horse.? The one on the floor passed out next to
