The Husband, without whose support, tolerance and good humour my crazy schemes wouldn’t even be pipe dreams, has his own passion. Long distance hikes. 20+ miles (yes, I know!!!). In his early 20s, he completed his Mountain Leadership Training, and it has been his dearest wish for years to update his skills, and get involved again in some serious hillwalking. This, of course has been denied him, due to work commitments, ageing parents, then my ill-health, hospital appointments, animal ownership, life getting in the way …
Finally, the big weekend arrived! Friday afternoon until Sunday, The Husband booked himself onto a residential course to go and do “boy-things”: get cold, wet and muddy in the mountains; wander about in the dark with maps and compasses – the sort of thing that lights him up the way a canter on the beach with Rebel frees my soul. And away he went. I promised faithfully that I wouldn’t start any “wee jobs” that would require several weeks of hard labour to rescue; I promised I wouldn’t set the cooker on fire (again); I promised I wouldn’t cause any drama or trouble … And I didn’t!
But the bloody pony watched his tail lights disappearing up the road … and slipped down between the dug-out bank and retaining wall at the back of our house.
Phoned my equine vet. She couldn’t come, but told me to ring the fire brigade, and another equine vet. You can imagine the 999 operative phone-call. “A what? Pony? And he’s where?!”
They send a fire engine in the first instance, and then the Large Animal Rescue team.
“Do you know anyone with a teleporter?” is their first question. So I ring my farmer neighbour – who doesn’t, but might know a man – and the mobile phone signal cuts out. I’m so stressed and hyperventilating at this point that a fireman is detailed to take me into the house to monitor my blood oxygen saturation, nebulise me, and generally keep me out of the way.
3 farmers appear (1 with a teleporter in the overlooking field!), a farmers child, 2 LandRovers and a fire engine full of firemen, and an equine vet. And they manage backfill the gap behind the retaining wall with enough overgrown vegetation to walk the pony out without a scratch or breaking sweat. Much hilarity amongst the firemen who are going home to their Saturday evening meal in under an hour; much bustle, self-importance, and nosiness amongst the farmers who love to be in the thick of someone else’s misfortune and crisis!, and genuine concern for me from the vet, who stayed and chatted for another 30 minutes just to make sure I would be ok!
Needless to say, The Husband remained unaware of the disaster until we emailed that night (no mobile phone signal in the mountains!); and I was the talk of the country for weeks: the lengths some women will go to when the husband’s away …
Rule 29: never ever make promises you can’t keep!!!
Keep an eye out for my next book, ‘Recognising Pain in Ridden Horses: Performance, Partnership and Potential’, co-authored with Dr Sue Dyson, published by J A Allen, due 2023. Sign up at www.recognisingpaininriddenhorses.co.uk to be kept up to date with new information as it comes available. Watch a FREE 30 minute documentary on recognising pain in ridden horses here.
Here’s a FREE 30-minute presentation by Sue Palmer on how to recognise pain in your horse.
Other books by Sue Palmer MSc MCSP:
‘Horse Massage for Horse Owners’
‘Understanding Horse Performance: Brain, Pain or Training?’
© Sue Palmer, The Horse Physio, 2022
