Gracie21
Well-Known Member
Love it 
As requested... Our stories.
- Thread starter Queenbee
- Start date
JustAnotherNeddy
Well-Known Member
More more more!
irish_only
Well-Known Member
What a lovely story - next chapter please
Emilieu
Well-Known Member
Oh I'm loving this thank you.
Don't want to be be picky and I know we all know how beautiful she was but... some little pics to remind us as we read would be delightful. Pretty pretty please?x
thank you.Don't want to be be picky and I know we all know how beautiful she was but... some little pics to remind us as we read would be delightful. Pretty pretty please?x
Elsbells
Well-Known Member
More please
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Oh I'm loving this
Don't want to be be picky and I know we all know how beautiful she was but... some little pics to remind us as we read would be delightful. Pretty pretty please?x
Can't do the next instalment yet but would be my pleasure to produce a few pics tonight for you
A few of my favourites:
Super jumping diva
I can dance DIVA
spruced up diva:
Hunting:
[Content removed]
As I remember her...
and with my boy... who spent 2 1/2 years with her from 6 months on... I call him my little bit of her...
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piebaldsparkle
Well-Known Member
All the best horses find you (mine did).
mperson01
Well-Known Member
Lovely story, thanks for sharing, and for the pics of a truly beautiful horse.
RubysGold
Well-Known Member
Wonderful story so far
You really have a way with words that gets us hooked.
What a beautiful Mare!!
You really have a way with words that gets us hooked.
What a beautiful Mare!!
Star_Chaser
Well-Known Member
I can see why you fell in love with her, she's gorgeous Funny how its the ones that unseat us that turn out to be the horse of a lifetime... can't wait for the next instalment!
Funny how its the ones that unseat us that turn out to be the horse of a lifetime... can't wait for the next instalment!
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
So, when we all left this thread last time, I had just acquired a new horse. I should point out at this point that prior to owning Ebony, I had been a ‘gelding only’ kind of gal, moreover, I was the one who was put on the little git ponies, I had little experience of the mentality of mares and horses… which anyone with experience will know (as I was soon to find out) is vastly different!
Prior to paying off the last instalment, I had been out and about enquiring about possible yards. I knew I could keep Ebony where she was, but there was no school, no stable, no structure, and I was aware that I would need this to begin her education. She was incredibly green when I bought her, her previous owners bought her at 6 months old, I recall her them telling me she was thrown off the lorry by the dealers . Until I bought her, she had pretty much done the same circuit a couple of times a month (max) in walk and trot, so at 7yrs we had a lot of learning to do!
The day after I paid her last instalment I moved her to Gryllis. It was just up the road and yard of 10 horses, on an organic dairy farm smack bang in the middle of the mine hacks.
Youv’e heard the terms: xyz hits the fan, all hell breaks loose, etcetera, etcetera… well, this was worse, far worse! But we will get to that in a minute…
The day I moved her up to Gryllis, I met the owner of Ebony’s neighbour… Lorrae. Lorrae owned a mare by the name of Lady, a beautiful ex racer. Lady was the boss of the field, no dispute! Ebony had always been a wallflower in her previous home, suddenly blossomed and became 2nd in command. I think in a funny way she always knew which side her bread was buttered on as Herman was the boss and she was always stuck like glue to him, as she was with Lady. Ebony was loved and at the same time ‘tolerated’ by Lorrae and Lady, the reason being, that Ebony had never tasted the nectar known as haylage… she knew only hay. There was a 6 inch gap under the wall of the stables where Lady’s haylage used to collect, and every morning Ebony would have half her haynet left because she took up most of her time catching the scraps that Lady dropped! Very cost effective for me
The season of Gryllis was a whole season of firsts, for the both of us, looking back I realise now, how much it must have blown her mind and I understand more her reactions from understanding her, but back then I didn’t realise her depths, the extent of her emotions, I expected her to behave in certain ways, I was willing to make certain allowances, but I never realised things would get so tough for so long.
The combination of grass, stables and a new home was just mind blowing for Ebs. She absolutely hated being stabled, and I quickly realised that she suffered acutely from separation anxiety. If she was in the field and there was a horse in with her, that was fine, but if the last horse was taken away… nothing held her in, the gate was just in her way… she cleared it everytime. Things got trickier though if she was in the stable, she could have 10 other horses in but if just one left… she jumped out of the stable. She broke a fair few doors doing this! I found that for the first time in my life I had to work around everyone else, I had to rely on them to tell me when they were going to bring their horses in or turn them out… this was not how I remembered it to be!
Rugging her up was another issue, she hated rugs, you actually had to put them on the ‘proper’ way, fold them up, place them on the back, do the front up, unfold etc! Feeding was another minefield, other than chaff, merry mole cool mix (Mole Valley) and bran, I had never used anything else. I made the mistake of using A&P calm and condition, thinking it would ‘Calm’ her down…. I know better now! In the end she was religiously kept on a handful of chaff and valerian cordial. Going back to her owner to discuss with her the experiences I was having with her, It became apparent that there was one other person that had her on loan before me, but she took her away to her home, when she did that and Ebony encountered grass, the girl never got on her back again! I suppose I have pickles and cloud primarily to thank for my balls at that point. A sparky horse is far easier to control from atop than on the ground in my opinion.
So we come to riding. At Gryllis, Ebs became a bit of a demon possessed! Standing still was beneath her, I barely got on her at the mounting block, having to run along the sodding thing and leap on llike I was in some comedy western. Then the comedy western, would miraculously morph into a Spanish equestrian extravaganza, whist she pranced about the yard waiting for Lorrae to get on Lady (the ex race horse who was all niceness and manners put my psycho diva to shame!)
Our riding at Gryllis was twofold, first we had our hacks with Lady and Lorrae, behind who we learnt to canter along the straights of the hacks, and explored the freakiness of pigs, motorbikes and plastic bags. On our own time, we used (wait for the shock!)… draw reins!!!! I can honestly say Ebony never rode in any kind of outline at that point! But neither did she do her ostrich impersonation, she learnt to ride in a relaxed gait (well, drop her head a bit) at walk and sometimes trot, which was my aim.
Another epic adventure for us was the picking up of feet, something which was not on ebonys ‘can be arsed to do list…I don’t really blame here… I still use the minimum of effort and scuff my soles. During her time with her previous owners, she had in fact been taught to pick her tootsies up, but they then had a chap ride her (prior to me). Have you ever watched ‘A Knights Tale’ with Heath Ledger, a fab film of one of the Chaucer Canterbury Tales? Well, there is a line in there that goes: ‘You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting…’ this was her attitude to the chap. He was a novice, and she snatched her foot back from him one day, and he let her get away with it… cue a tangled ball of wool for me to unravel… one divaish, stubborn, tangled ball of wool! Every time you would pick her feet up, she would snatch, once we dealt with that she changed tactic… Oh leaning, such fun… not! It all got too much for me one day, she would lean and lean and lean, her knee going further and further down, and putting strain on my arm… so one day I bedded her nice and deep, let her lean and lean and lean… then (god knows how it happened 
) but my hand just let go! And she never did that again
The poor farrier was a similar story! I quite possibly found the best farrier in the world he never shouted at her, or even reacted in any way… perfect for her. No matter how much she pranced around and bunny hopped or leaned, he just ignored her and cracked on with shoeing her. She used to have 2 stonking cracks in her hooves but thanks to him they went, and years later we were able to go barefoot for 3 years without any sign of them returning!
Stabling became a bit of a problem at Gryllis, and I had to accept that at that time, it was just one thing too many for her to deal with, she was either jumping out or box walking all the time, and as she became fitter and more confident, there was no way she wanted to stuck in a box, no amount of carrots and Swedes strung up from bailer twine would change that. Every day I came in to withered untouched veg, barely eaten dinner (so much for valerian!) untouched hay, and a bed that had to be fully mucked out and replaced. So I made the decision to turn her out that November.
With only a month to go until Christmas, I starting (in retrospect stupidly) to plan my first ever hunting experience, on boxing day on Carn Brea. We didn’t even make it down the hill from the meet, our saddle slipped and I called it a day… feeling like a prat! I was starting to feel quite sorry for myself, it wasn’t how I remembered it. I couldn’t seem to gel with this mare, her attitude was too strong, sure pix and cloud had been strong and firey characters, but she almost didn’t want to do something BECAUSE I wanted her to do it. In situations where she should be happy, she was becoming tense and tucked up, hell, she was like that everyday if I stabled her. I couldn’t get shoes on her without feeding her a net of carrots (even then it was a task and a half) and suddenly, catching her was a frigging chore too, I had to section her off in another field. This horse, who was going to get me through uni, and give me the energy and drive to complete it, was taking everything I had. I was absolutely starting to despair.
Prior to paying off the last instalment, I had been out and about enquiring about possible yards. I knew I could keep Ebony where she was, but there was no school, no stable, no structure, and I was aware that I would need this to begin her education. She was incredibly green when I bought her, her previous owners bought her at 6 months old, I recall her them telling me she was thrown off the lorry by the dealers . Until I bought her, she had pretty much done the same circuit a couple of times a month (max) in walk and trot, so at 7yrs we had a lot of learning to do!
The day after I paid her last instalment I moved her to Gryllis. It was just up the road and yard of 10 horses, on an organic dairy farm smack bang in the middle of the mine hacks.
Youv’e heard the terms: xyz hits the fan, all hell breaks loose, etcetera, etcetera… well, this was worse, far worse! But we will get to that in a minute…
The day I moved her up to Gryllis, I met the owner of Ebony’s neighbour… Lorrae. Lorrae owned a mare by the name of Lady, a beautiful ex racer. Lady was the boss of the field, no dispute! Ebony had always been a wallflower in her previous home, suddenly blossomed and became 2nd in command. I think in a funny way she always knew which side her bread was buttered on as Herman was the boss and she was always stuck like glue to him, as she was with Lady. Ebony was loved and at the same time ‘tolerated’ by Lorrae and Lady, the reason being, that Ebony had never tasted the nectar known as haylage… she knew only hay. There was a 6 inch gap under the wall of the stables where Lady’s haylage used to collect, and every morning Ebony would have half her haynet left because she took up most of her time catching the scraps that Lady dropped! Very cost effective for me
The season of Gryllis was a whole season of firsts, for the both of us, looking back I realise now, how much it must have blown her mind and I understand more her reactions from understanding her, but back then I didn’t realise her depths, the extent of her emotions, I expected her to behave in certain ways, I was willing to make certain allowances, but I never realised things would get so tough for so long.
The combination of grass, stables and a new home was just mind blowing for Ebs. She absolutely hated being stabled, and I quickly realised that she suffered acutely from separation anxiety. If she was in the field and there was a horse in with her, that was fine, but if the last horse was taken away… nothing held her in, the gate was just in her way… she cleared it everytime. Things got trickier though if she was in the stable, she could have 10 other horses in but if just one left… she jumped out of the stable. She broke a fair few doors doing this! I found that for the first time in my life I had to work around everyone else, I had to rely on them to tell me when they were going to bring their horses in or turn them out… this was not how I remembered it to be!
Rugging her up was another issue, she hated rugs, you actually had to put them on the ‘proper’ way, fold them up, place them on the back, do the front up, unfold etc! Feeding was another minefield, other than chaff, merry mole cool mix (Mole Valley) and bran, I had never used anything else. I made the mistake of using A&P calm and condition, thinking it would ‘Calm’ her down…. I know better now! In the end she was religiously kept on a handful of chaff and valerian cordial. Going back to her owner to discuss with her the experiences I was having with her, It became apparent that there was one other person that had her on loan before me, but she took her away to her home, when she did that and Ebony encountered grass, the girl never got on her back again! I suppose I have pickles and cloud primarily to thank for my balls at that point. A sparky horse is far easier to control from atop than on the ground in my opinion.
So we come to riding. At Gryllis, Ebs became a bit of a demon possessed! Standing still was beneath her, I barely got on her at the mounting block, having to run along the sodding thing and leap on llike I was in some comedy western. Then the comedy western, would miraculously morph into a Spanish equestrian extravaganza, whist she pranced about the yard waiting for Lorrae to get on Lady (the ex race horse who was all niceness and manners put my psycho diva to shame!)
Our riding at Gryllis was twofold, first we had our hacks with Lady and Lorrae, behind who we learnt to canter along the straights of the hacks, and explored the freakiness of pigs, motorbikes and plastic bags. On our own time, we used (wait for the shock!)… draw reins!!!! I can honestly say Ebony never rode in any kind of outline at that point! But neither did she do her ostrich impersonation, she learnt to ride in a relaxed gait (well, drop her head a bit) at walk and sometimes trot, which was my aim.
Another epic adventure for us was the picking up of feet, something which was not on ebonys ‘can be arsed to do list…I don’t really blame here… I still use the minimum of effort and scuff my soles
. During her time with her previous owners, she had in fact been taught to pick her tootsies up, but they then had a chap ride her (prior to me). Have you ever watched ‘A Knights Tale’ with Heath Ledger, a fab film of one of the Chaucer Canterbury Tales? Well, there is a line in there that goes: ‘You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting…’ this was her attitude to the chap. He was a novice, and she snatched her foot back from him one day, and he let her get away with it… cue a tangled ball of wool for me to unravel… one divaish, stubborn, tangled ball of wool! Every time you would pick her feet up, she would snatch, once we dealt with that she changed tactic… Oh leaning, such fun… not! It all got too much for me one day, she would lean and lean and lean, her knee going further and further down, and putting strain on my arm… so one day I bedded her nice and deep, let her lean and lean and lean… then (god knows how it happened ) but my hand just let go! And she never did that again The poor farrier was a similar story! I quite possibly found the best farrier in the world
he never shouted at her, or even reacted in any way… perfect for her. No matter how much she pranced around and bunny hopped or leaned, he just ignored her and cracked on with shoeing her. She used to have 2 stonking cracks in her hooves but thanks to him they went, and years later we were able to go barefoot for 3 years without any sign of them returning!Stabling became a bit of a problem at Gryllis, and I had to accept that at that time, it was just one thing too many for her to deal with, she was either jumping out or box walking all the time, and as she became fitter and more confident, there was no way she wanted to stuck in a box, no amount of carrots and Swedes strung up from bailer twine would change that. Every day I came in to withered untouched veg, barely eaten dinner (so much for valerian!) untouched hay, and a bed that had to be fully mucked out and replaced. So I made the decision to turn her out that November.
With only a month to go until Christmas, I starting (in retrospect stupidly) to plan my first ever hunting experience, on boxing day on Carn Brea. We didn’t even make it down the hill from the meet, our saddle slipped and I called it a day… feeling like a prat! I was starting to feel quite sorry for myself, it wasn’t how I remembered it. I couldn’t seem to gel with this mare, her attitude was too strong, sure pix and cloud had been strong and firey characters, but she almost didn’t want to do something BECAUSE I wanted her to do it. In situations where she should be happy, she was becoming tense and tucked up, hell, she was like that everyday if I stabled her. I couldn’t get shoes on her without feeding her a net of carrots (even then it was a task and a half) and suddenly, catching her was a frigging chore too, I had to section her off in another field. This horse, who was going to get me through uni, and give me the energy and drive to complete it, was taking everything I had. I was absolutely starting to despair.
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Queenbee
Well-Known Member
We carried on just hacking until my final exams, but I wanted to do so much more, unfortunately at that point getting her to work properly was beyond me, I know now that I just didnt know her, when I tapped into her and got her it was easy. At this point I could get her to bring her head into a semi relaxed state, but her back was always hollow and tense
as I said I was at a loss, so I enquired and during my exams sent her to a well known and respected local trainer. It seemed ideal, we were moving to a new smallholding and she could come straight there with company of the old owners horses on completion of 3 weeks away being schooled
never underestimate hindsight!
I dont know what possessed me to agree to sending my horse somewhere where there was no field for her to be turned out in, but there was a school, she would get turn out in that I suppose that some of it was down to my reasoning that she had spent the first 7years without grazing and would be exercised, and some of it was down to wanting the best for Ebony, I had been told she was the best I cant say how much I regret my decision. I explained to the trainer how important it was that if she was leading a horse away from the yard, she tie Ebony up in the stable with a haynet not perfect, but Ebs would have calmed down and not been able to hurt herself. As it was, I got a call to say that she had injured herself, she saw a horse being taken away, was not tied up and jumped out of the stable. The walk way was narrow, the stable walls high, she scraped her pelvis on the wall, hit her head on the hinge of the opposite door and landed on an upturned pitchfork Needless to say I was livid. I arranged to pick her up 2 days later (earlier than planned). She insisted that I ride her to try her out before we left everything seemed fine, I now strongly suspect that she had been buted, because there was no getting on the back of her after that Anyway, that day we rode home to Croft William, our new home, a place where my dreams met, I could look out of my window and see my horse in my field, it was also the place where I almost broke my back and faced the prospect that Ebony may be too dangerous and damaged to ride
I know I said I couldnt write more tonight but I was a bit inspired
I dont know what possessed me to agree to sending my horse somewhere where there was no field for her to be turned out in, but there was a school, she would get turn out in that I suppose that some of it was down to my reasoning that she had spent the first 7years without grazing and would be exercised, and some of it was down to wanting the best for Ebony, I had been told she was the best I cant say how much I regret my decision. I explained to the trainer how important it was that if she was leading a horse away from the yard, she tie Ebony up in the stable with a haynet not perfect, but Ebs would have calmed down and not been able to hurt herself. As it was, I got a call to say that she had injured herself, she saw a horse being taken away, was not tied up and jumped out of the stable. The walk way was narrow, the stable walls high, she scraped her pelvis on the wall, hit her head on the hinge of the opposite door and landed on an upturned pitchfork Needless to say I was livid. I arranged to pick her up 2 days later (earlier than planned). She insisted that I ride her to try her out before we left everything seemed fine, I now strongly suspect that she had been buted, because there was no getting on the back of her after that Anyway, that day we rode home to Croft William, our new home, a place where my dreams met, I could look out of my window and see my horse in my field, it was also the place where I almost broke my back and faced the prospect that Ebony may be too dangerous and damaged to ride
I know I said I couldnt write more tonight but I was a bit inspired
Star_Chaser
Well-Known Member
and....
Odd Socks
Well-Known Member
Absolutely lovely story. I wonder if H&H might want topublish this? Beautiful pics, can't wait for more
YasandCrystal
Well-Known Member
Rivetting reading - quite brilliant
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Thank you my lovelies! I'm enjoying writing it, it's bringing back a lot of forgotten memories, showing me how much I've learnt from owning her, how I've changed and grown as a horse owner. Going back is helping me to compare how I felt at certain times with her to how I would feel now, knowing what I do about her. Sharing it with others who through the course of our ups and downs came to be very fond of ebony is really good for me and reliving and telling this tale is really helping me to focus on the good and not so much the last couple of months.
Ventus
Active Member
I love your story QueenBee, and I am very sorry for your loss. Looking forward to your next chapter...
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Oh, go on then, I will write some more
So, off we went to Croft William. Croft William was a joint family venture, my sister and her husband and their 2 children, myself, my parents and my grandmother. A hell of a lot of family history took place there. It was a beautiful smallholding my sister and her family had the house, and the plan was to continue with the build of the barn conversion that we were to buy later that year, along with the stable yard, barn and about 20 acres. The previous owner had left behind 3 horses, for me to help sell to of them and gifted one to my sister, they were excellent company for Ebony. Unfortunately things took a turn for the worse quite fast, we realised that the remainder of the property was tied up in a clause which meant that only the previous owner could build it, we also found that he never had any intention of selling the land. So for a few years we lived, not how we had planned, but in relative bliss in static caravans, alongside my sister in the big house. My grandma in one, my parents in another and me in mine, from time to time we would have visitors Lorrae, my cousin, and a new woman (k) and her daughter (c) all came to live with me during glitches in their life. For the most part of it, croft William was a place of great healing, allowing myself and my 3 friends to put our lives well and truly back on track. My sister and her partner got married and held a beautiful reception in Marquees in the field. We lost my grandma, she had spent 10 years without her beloved and it came to a point where she had seen enough of the world, enjoyed being with her family, but craved my grandfather who she firmly believed would be waiting for her Some of my most peaceful times were spent there I fully came to terms with moving on the hole that I had felt in my life was no longer patched over it didnt exist anymore, and I realised that I was everything that I ever needed, my life was great as it was and I had lost nothing, Finally great friendships were forged in my caravan, my cousin and lorrae who were both going through difficult times, both resolved their problems and came out stronger and happier when they returned to their lives, K and her daughter, became incredibly special, we grew very close and at Croft William, K met the love of her life, was able to trust and be with him, and forged the strongest mother-daughter relationship with C, all of the above characters will feature in our story from now on.
From day one, we had problems, Ebs and I. It wasnt even her normal nutty and prima donna attitude, it was actually riding her, she was tense in a different way. Many times when trying to mount her, her ears were flat back and she was tense as a wash board. When I tried mounting from the ground, she would rodeo and/or bolt. Mounting from a high wall, got me the same response. Occasionally I could get on, but found my mouth ended up scooping up dirt within minutes. She didnt appear lame in the slightest, so my first stop was to get a new saddle, one that fitted better, she had filled out by then in comparison to when Id bought her and 16 and a half inches was not enough for me, I needed another inch. So, having tried a few I decided on the wintec 2000 cair, which fitted like a glove and wasnt over pumped so it really did mould well to her. I knew this fitted, but it was to no avail, It became quickly apparent that I didnt bounce as well as I did when I was a teenager and I couldnt sit a buck from this horse if my life depended on it I was ditched and severely hurt my back, I thank god to this day I had an old style back protector on which protected me to a level, because for weeks I was in absolute agony. I gave Ebs a few weeks off, see if rest would ease whatever was up Nothing changed, as the days progressed I got more and more worried, I couldnt get on her, I was unable to lunge her. I had sent away a horse you could lunge in an open field and I ended up with burns all over my hands. I was at breaking point, she was enough to test me without this, but I now knew that there was something seriously wrong, I had exhausted all my options that I had, and was on the verge of calling the vets. I was certain at this point that what I was dealing with was serious damage from the accident at the trainers. I had been crying for her every night for weeks, so see such violent reactions scared the hell out of me in every way. I was scared to try and ride her and scared for her and what this meant for our ridden future. I was convinced it was unsalvageable and I had an exquisitely beautiful field ornament and certain that I was responsible as I had sent her away. Make no mistake, Ebony was the strongest of characters I had ever known, she could be commanding, was talented, was strong in her being and her attitude, but it was a front, the real Ebony as I had come to see over the months was increadibly fragile, constantly needing praise and reassurance. Like a striking but delicate and beautiful orchid, I had no one else to blame for her current position than myself. I realised how I wasnt cut out for a horse like her, she was beyond my experience, my skill set and my talent, and now I had no hope of finding someone that was because I had broken her. I felt wretched.
Next door to where I worked was a fantastic horse shop (in which I had a tab cost me £1000s!). Working there was a mutual friend of Lorraes and mine. She was well versed on my problems with Ebs and I respected her as a horsewoman. She recommended to me a woman by the name of Bu, suggesting I get her out to look at Ebony before I go to the vets. Bu was a singular woman, eccentric and bizarre. I owe this woman everything. She was a trained Reiki specialist amongst other things, she moved to Dorset I think, if anyone ever reccomends her, use her, this woman has magic in her fingertips. She just touched Ebony all over, no manipulation or poking and prodding, when she finally asked me to walk Ebs away from her she grabbed and yanked her tail, telling me she was all done. Apparently, her pelvis was slightly out, as were a couple of vertebrae, what I know is that she manipulated the surrounding muscle in a way that the eye couldnt catch (and Ive seen a lot of different practices and understand how they work Bu, defied my understanding).
I am able to have faith in things unknown or unexplained, and my friend who was quite old school had warned me I would need it I never realised quite how much. My father and I both looked at each other with what a load of bollox eyebrows and I asked her when she thought I would need a follow up visit (not intending on having one from someone who was so obviously a charlatan). Bu told me that I would not need her again, she told me that fleecing people for money through numerous sessions where one could suffice was not her thing, for her it was all about the horse, and if she could fix it in one session (as she told me she had for Ebs) she did. So, I paid her £50 and she told me to chuck her out in the field for a week and then get on and ride on, she told me she needed a few days to feel she was ok now, then she would be fine.
So, off we went to Croft William. Croft William was a joint family venture, my sister and her husband and their 2 children, myself, my parents and my grandmother. A hell of a lot of family history took place there. It was a beautiful smallholding my sister and her family had the house, and the plan was to continue with the build of the barn conversion that we were to buy later that year, along with the stable yard, barn and about 20 acres. The previous owner had left behind 3 horses, for me to help sell to of them and gifted one to my sister, they were excellent company for Ebony. Unfortunately things took a turn for the worse quite fast, we realised that the remainder of the property was tied up in a clause which meant that only the previous owner could build it, we also found that he never had any intention of selling the land. So for a few years we lived, not how we had planned, but in relative bliss in static caravans, alongside my sister in the big house. My grandma in one, my parents in another and me in mine, from time to time we would have visitors Lorrae, my cousin, and a new woman (k) and her daughter (c) all came to live with me during glitches in their life. For the most part of it, croft William was a place of great healing, allowing myself and my 3 friends to put our lives well and truly back on track. My sister and her partner got married and held a beautiful reception in Marquees in the field. We lost my grandma, she had spent 10 years without her beloved and it came to a point where she had seen enough of the world, enjoyed being with her family, but craved my grandfather who she firmly believed would be waiting for her Some of my most peaceful times were spent there I fully came to terms with moving on the hole that I had felt in my life was no longer patched over it didnt exist anymore, and I realised that I was everything that I ever needed, my life was great as it was and I had lost nothing, Finally great friendships were forged in my caravan, my cousin and lorrae who were both going through difficult times, both resolved their problems and came out stronger and happier when they returned to their lives, K and her daughter, became incredibly special, we grew very close and at Croft William, K met the love of her life, was able to trust and be with him, and forged the strongest mother-daughter relationship with C, all of the above characters will feature in our story from now on.
From day one, we had problems, Ebs and I. It wasnt even her normal nutty and prima donna attitude, it was actually riding her, she was tense in a different way. Many times when trying to mount her, her ears were flat back and she was tense as a wash board. When I tried mounting from the ground, she would rodeo and/or bolt. Mounting from a high wall, got me the same response. Occasionally I could get on, but found my mouth ended up scooping up dirt within minutes. She didnt appear lame in the slightest, so my first stop was to get a new saddle, one that fitted better, she had filled out by then in comparison to when Id bought her and 16 and a half inches was not enough for me, I needed another inch. So, having tried a few I decided on the wintec 2000 cair, which fitted like a glove and wasnt over pumped so it really did mould well to her. I knew this fitted, but it was to no avail, It became quickly apparent that I didnt bounce as well as I did when I was a teenager and I couldnt sit a buck from this horse if my life depended on it I was ditched and severely hurt my back, I thank god to this day I had an old style back protector on which protected me to a level, because for weeks I was in absolute agony. I gave Ebs a few weeks off, see if rest would ease whatever was up Nothing changed, as the days progressed I got more and more worried, I couldnt get on her, I was unable to lunge her. I had sent away a horse you could lunge in an open field and I ended up with burns all over my hands. I was at breaking point, she was enough to test me without this, but I now knew that there was something seriously wrong, I had exhausted all my options that I had, and was on the verge of calling the vets. I was certain at this point that what I was dealing with was serious damage from the accident at the trainers. I had been crying for her every night for weeks, so see such violent reactions scared the hell out of me in every way. I was scared to try and ride her and scared for her and what this meant for our ridden future. I was convinced it was unsalvageable and I had an exquisitely beautiful field ornament and certain that I was responsible as I had sent her away. Make no mistake, Ebony was the strongest of characters I had ever known, she could be commanding, was talented, was strong in her being and her attitude, but it was a front, the real Ebony as I had come to see over the months was increadibly fragile, constantly needing praise and reassurance. Like a striking but delicate and beautiful orchid, I had no one else to blame for her current position than myself. I realised how I wasnt cut out for a horse like her, she was beyond my experience, my skill set and my talent, and now I had no hope of finding someone that was because I had broken her. I felt wretched.
Next door to where I worked was a fantastic horse shop (in which I had a tab cost me £1000s!). Working there was a mutual friend of Lorraes and mine. She was well versed on my problems with Ebs and I respected her as a horsewoman. She recommended to me a woman by the name of Bu, suggesting I get her out to look at Ebony before I go to the vets. Bu was a singular woman, eccentric and bizarre. I owe this woman everything. She was a trained Reiki specialist amongst other things, she moved to Dorset I think, if anyone ever reccomends her, use her, this woman has magic in her fingertips. She just touched Ebony all over, no manipulation or poking and prodding, when she finally asked me to walk Ebs away from her she grabbed and yanked her tail, telling me she was all done. Apparently, her pelvis was slightly out, as were a couple of vertebrae, what I know is that she manipulated the surrounding muscle in a way that the eye couldnt catch (and Ive seen a lot of different practices and understand how they work Bu, defied my understanding).
I am able to have faith in things unknown or unexplained, and my friend who was quite old school had warned me I would need it I never realised quite how much. My father and I both looked at each other with what a load of bollox eyebrows and I asked her when she thought I would need a follow up visit (not intending on having one from someone who was so obviously a charlatan). Bu told me that I would not need her again, she told me that fleecing people for money through numerous sessions where one could suffice was not her thing, for her it was all about the horse, and if she could fix it in one session (as she told me she had for Ebs) she did. So, I paid her £50 and she told me to chuck her out in the field for a week and then get on and ride on, she told me she needed a few days to feel she was ok now, then she would be fine.
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
A week to the day, I kitted myself out, new back protector, new hat
I was shaking like a leaf having spent so many times hurtling towards grass and soil and granite, my bottle had completely gone. There was a circular raised bed with a tree in it, the wall of which was about 3 feet high. My father held Ebs by the bridle and weighted the stirrup, both of us, hearts in mouth as I had been dragged numerous times and he had been ploughed down. I remember even in my peripheral vision I clocked her ears and stance, ears forward, never wavering, and her stance was completely relaxed and free of tension. Still, it was a wary foot that I placed in that stirrup. I remember well the moment when I felt the link between the pressure that my foot put in the stirrup, and the weight being balanced by my father on the other side, the contact that I took up one handed with the reins incase she bolted
and the fact that her ears stayed forward
I was in the saddle and everything felt different and right
but I was still scared, convinced that it couldnt be this easy to fix her, I would remain this way for quite some time.
Our first day was a walk to the end of the drive and back, a mere two minutes, but it was enough, for my nerves at that point, and she behaved impeccably. From that day forward we never revisited that problem again, she was always perfect to mount and I knew deep in my bones that this horse would communicate to me in some way when she was in pain, she was not a horse to suffer quietly.
For weeks we walked, learning the local hacks, working in a bit of trot, but with the close call on my back and her violent reactions, canter evaded me. The thought of planning on this hack we will canter scared the bejesus out of me, and I had pretty much resolved that she would be my happy walk and trot hack. So convinced was I that canter would be out undoing, she would buck me off, I would break irrevocably. This was a far cry from the teenager that galloped on grass verges, cantered downhill at breakneck speed over 3ft cross country jumps, overtaking her competition on the way. I never rode without my back protector and my back protector gave me just enough confidence to ride. I didnt however, lament the old days as much I would have predicted I would have, my only focus and thought was that I could ride her, she was fixed and that was everything to me and more, she was still a monumental nightmare, bunny hopping when you tied her up, stressing and fretting for all she was worth, but she wasnt stabled at Croft William so life was bad but not too bad on her behaviour front, and as I said, we rode that was everything whatever gait we could do. We went out for a lovely hack up towards White Alice (a little house on a crop of moorland, on the opposite side of the valley we lived in) we had a lovely steady trot and my face was glowing, I was flushed with happiness and in my element. It was so easy and natural, just like 3 comes after 2, we cantered, I didnt think about it, I just asked, and it was everything I wished for, flowing, exhilarating, controlled, and perfect. I had never felt happier or more at home than when we returned to Croft William that day.
Our first day was a walk to the end of the drive and back, a mere two minutes, but it was enough, for my nerves at that point, and she behaved impeccably. From that day forward we never revisited that problem again, she was always perfect to mount and I knew deep in my bones that this horse would communicate to me in some way when she was in pain, she was not a horse to suffer quietly.
For weeks we walked, learning the local hacks, working in a bit of trot, but with the close call on my back and her violent reactions, canter evaded me. The thought of planning on this hack we will canter scared the bejesus out of me, and I had pretty much resolved that she would be my happy walk and trot hack. So convinced was I that canter would be out undoing, she would buck me off, I would break irrevocably. This was a far cry from the teenager that galloped on grass verges, cantered downhill at breakneck speed over 3ft cross country jumps, overtaking her competition on the way. I never rode without my back protector and my back protector gave me just enough confidence to ride. I didnt however, lament the old days as much I would have predicted I would have, my only focus and thought was that I could ride her, she was fixed and that was everything to me and more, she was still a monumental nightmare, bunny hopping when you tied her up, stressing and fretting for all she was worth, but she wasnt stabled at Croft William so life was bad but not too bad on her behaviour front, and as I said, we rode that was everything whatever gait we could do. We went out for a lovely hack up towards White Alice (a little house on a crop of moorland, on the opposite side of the valley we lived in) we had a lovely steady trot and my face was glowing, I was flushed with happiness and in my element. It was so easy and natural, just like 3 comes after 2, we cantered, I didnt think about it, I just asked, and it was everything I wished for, flowing, exhilarating, controlled, and perfect. I had never felt happier or more at home than when we returned to Croft William that day.
ex racer rider
Well-Known Member
ooh, i cant wait for the next part.
Serriously though, you must write a book, you have a very easy and flowing writing style that really draws you in.... go on, do it!
Serriously though, you must write a book, you have a very easy and flowing writing style that really draws you in.... go on, do it!
Emilieu
Well-Known Member
wonderful. I feel like I'm there with you x
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Thank youooh, i cant wait for the next part.
Serriously though, you must write a book, you have a very easy and flowing writing style that really draws you in.... go on, do it!
but my punctuation needs an overhaul! lol, reading back I keep wanting to make changes and admin won't let me!!!
Thank you, that's a lovely thing to say, I write it and I read it, and I wish with all my heart that I was back living those moments, for all my frustration at her, I wish I could do it all again, I would cherish every moment 1000 x more than I did.
Emilieu
Well-Known Member
Too much cherishing at the time would rob the moment of the pure joy. Cherish the memories instead and thank you for sharing them xx
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Holy reindeer poo! I just realised Ive got 5 stars on my thread, I am humbled, I am truly glad you are enjoying our story. Thank you
tikino
Well-Known Member
can't wait for the next part this is great
Charem
Well-Known Member
Great read QB, looking forward to the next imstalment
popeyesno1fan
Well-Known Member
Brilliant story so far
When do we get part 2?
ditto this. you have a great way with words, i'm hooked. you should become an author, if you are not one already. x
piebaldsparkle
Well-Known Member
An unexpected pleasure to find another installment (even if it meant I'm even later headed to bed now).
cally6008
Well-Known Member
Just caught up
Queenbee
Well-Known Member
Oh shi tte! 2 hrs ago something possessed me to revisit my thread about ebonys last struggle... I feel sick and have cried solidly for 3 hrs... I didn't cry much after losing her, I thought this was down to accepting that that would happen... I now realise I was wrong, my tears were lurking in the rafters and I spent the last 3 hrs crying my heart out... I feel all kinds of wretched...
next instalment to follow soon x
next instalment to follow soon x