JenHunt
Well-Known Member
Bobbie was 15hh and most likely a welsh cob. He was never papered and a friend of my family had paid £50 for him at auction - they couldn't get him in the ring and the owner couldn't afford to keep him. He was a bag of bones, covered in scars, a nervous wreck.
She bought him as a companion for her old hunter. She spent 3 years getting him back to health, getting him used to being handled again, backed him so that he could be taken safely from their summer pastures 2 miles up the road. Then her old hunter died suddenly of colic. Bobbie fretted all alone, and he was brought to us.
I was 11 and I'd just grown out of my little chestnut welsh pony so we needed something bigger. For a year my Dad couldn't catch him, it was me or no one he trusted. I spent hours with him. I taught him to jump, and he'd jump the moon for you if you asked. My first pony club camp with him he panicked in the stables and jumped out!
He tried so hard for me, he was a truly awesome pony. He'd be calm for me, or buzzy, or whatever. He was happy to go where ever I asked. He hated big tractors and motorbikes, but if you stood and let him look he'd stay still, trembling under you. I could hunt all day on the saturday and go and compete in combined training the next. He just wanted you to be proud of him.
When I was 14 I ruptured my knee ligaments and then got an infection in the joint so spent 6 months on crutches. The doctors said I wouldn't ride for a year, but 6 weeks after surgery I was back on, bareback as I couldn't sit in a saddle, and he knew I couldn't trot so he just walked gently, and when I asked for more he went into a smooth rocking chair canter.
He'd lie in the stable with me, put his head in my lap and start snoring. He'd call to me as I walked back up the drive from school.
One day, just before Christmas, I went to catch up the horses (we had 5 at that point) and Bobbie didn't come in. I went back for him to find him standing on 3 legs. He'd punctured a fetlock joint. The vet (after he'd had his head kicked in!) said that if he wasn't showing signs of improvement in 2 or 3 days that would be it. He was sound the following morning, though he did have time off to recover.
I competed for the pony club teams with him, we even beat a young Oli Townend on a number of occasions! Our dressage was the weak point, but the judges forgave him poor transitions and sloppy circles for his beautiful face and old fashioned welshy charm.
Sadly I grew out of him when I was 16 after 5 wonderful years. My sister took him on and worked hard on his flat work and carried on improving, competing with the pony club all the way to aston le walls.
When my sister grew out of him, we found a pony club family who needed a confidence giver for their daughter. He stayed on loan to them for a couple of years (with both daughters riding him eventually), then he went to another pony club family who had him for a year or so before the girl suddenly grew about 6 inches! Then the last 4 years he's been with a lovely family (who it turns out we kind of knew through someone else) and their kids are all at uni now. We found a lady who wanted a little cob to hack out on in walk or trot, and she's had him for a few months.
Then the other day she rang to say that he's suddenly lost weight, and she thought his vision was going, and the vet was coming to look at him on thursday. The vet's verdict was that the tiny sarcoid (which he's had since we got him, and has never changed) above his eye has grown inwards and is all wrapped up around the optic nerve and has starved it, and that the signs were that it had spread to his internal organs. That, combined with a touch of arthritis in his punctured fetlock joint and this sudden loss of weight has lead us all to the same sad conclusion.
Bobbie went peacefully in his field this morning, aged 28.
This pony was my life for so long, and still holds such a special place in my heart. He always will.
Bobbie,
I hope the love you received from us more than made up for the hardships and cruelty you suffered before.
I hope you look back on those years with the same joy as I do.
I hope that you can look down on us in the future and tell our horses what you know.
I hope that you can forgive me for leaving you with strangers.
I hope that you can meet up with you love of a life time now, and that you and her can run in endless pastures.
I hope you know that you were one in a million, a horse of life time, a true and special friend, and that I will never be able to replace you.
Run free, live out your dreams.
Happy hunting my old friend.
She bought him as a companion for her old hunter. She spent 3 years getting him back to health, getting him used to being handled again, backed him so that he could be taken safely from their summer pastures 2 miles up the road. Then her old hunter died suddenly of colic. Bobbie fretted all alone, and he was brought to us.
I was 11 and I'd just grown out of my little chestnut welsh pony so we needed something bigger. For a year my Dad couldn't catch him, it was me or no one he trusted. I spent hours with him. I taught him to jump, and he'd jump the moon for you if you asked. My first pony club camp with him he panicked in the stables and jumped out!
He tried so hard for me, he was a truly awesome pony. He'd be calm for me, or buzzy, or whatever. He was happy to go where ever I asked. He hated big tractors and motorbikes, but if you stood and let him look he'd stay still, trembling under you. I could hunt all day on the saturday and go and compete in combined training the next. He just wanted you to be proud of him.
When I was 14 I ruptured my knee ligaments and then got an infection in the joint so spent 6 months on crutches. The doctors said I wouldn't ride for a year, but 6 weeks after surgery I was back on, bareback as I couldn't sit in a saddle, and he knew I couldn't trot so he just walked gently, and when I asked for more he went into a smooth rocking chair canter.
He'd lie in the stable with me, put his head in my lap and start snoring. He'd call to me as I walked back up the drive from school.
One day, just before Christmas, I went to catch up the horses (we had 5 at that point) and Bobbie didn't come in. I went back for him to find him standing on 3 legs. He'd punctured a fetlock joint. The vet (after he'd had his head kicked in!) said that if he wasn't showing signs of improvement in 2 or 3 days that would be it. He was sound the following morning, though he did have time off to recover.
I competed for the pony club teams with him, we even beat a young Oli Townend on a number of occasions! Our dressage was the weak point, but the judges forgave him poor transitions and sloppy circles for his beautiful face and old fashioned welshy charm.
Sadly I grew out of him when I was 16 after 5 wonderful years. My sister took him on and worked hard on his flat work and carried on improving, competing with the pony club all the way to aston le walls.
When my sister grew out of him, we found a pony club family who needed a confidence giver for their daughter. He stayed on loan to them for a couple of years (with both daughters riding him eventually), then he went to another pony club family who had him for a year or so before the girl suddenly grew about 6 inches! Then the last 4 years he's been with a lovely family (who it turns out we kind of knew through someone else) and their kids are all at uni now. We found a lady who wanted a little cob to hack out on in walk or trot, and she's had him for a few months.
Then the other day she rang to say that he's suddenly lost weight, and she thought his vision was going, and the vet was coming to look at him on thursday. The vet's verdict was that the tiny sarcoid (which he's had since we got him, and has never changed) above his eye has grown inwards and is all wrapped up around the optic nerve and has starved it, and that the signs were that it had spread to his internal organs. That, combined with a touch of arthritis in his punctured fetlock joint and this sudden loss of weight has lead us all to the same sad conclusion.
Bobbie went peacefully in his field this morning, aged 28.
This pony was my life for so long, and still holds such a special place in my heart. He always will.
Bobbie,
I hope the love you received from us more than made up for the hardships and cruelty you suffered before.
I hope you look back on those years with the same joy as I do.
I hope that you can look down on us in the future and tell our horses what you know.
I hope that you can forgive me for leaving you with strangers.
I hope that you can meet up with you love of a life time now, and that you and her can run in endless pastures.
I hope you know that you were one in a million, a horse of life time, a true and special friend, and that I will never be able to replace you.
Run free, live out your dreams.
Happy hunting my old friend.
