Snowfilly
Well-Known Member
So, this was a masterclass in how not to get ready for a show: hand in dissertation 3 days before, spend those three days at work with an awful cold, decide to bite the bullet and go at 10.00pm the night before, as the coughing was waking me up every couple of hours anyway, so a 5.00 am start wouldn't make much difference.
That meant I hadn't got my gear together and had to borrow OH's white shirt, and Mum's tie.
Me and Mum, pressed into service as groom, headed out early...and run into a herd of loose cows on the road. After trying to chase them into the nearest field, we went and found a local farmer to retrieve them. Now half an hour late.
Never mind, we made it to the yard and after a good bath that included washing his feathers three times, I hit the road. It was only 3 miles, so we decided to walk rather than hire transport; walk took longer than expected as I had to stop for breath every 10 minutes or so.
Our first class was veterans and wih only 4 entries, I thought we had a chance. Aside from a horse eating monster at C, we went round ok and was happy to be called in second. But he pulled all the stops out for his individual show, and put himself into a super trot, feathers flying, head up and after a long walk round, we were called in first!
After a long period of being admired and looked at in amazement by mini horses who couldn't believe want they were seeing, it was time for coloureds and in a strong class, we came 5th. I was pleased to see the horse eating monster had left.
Lunch came and went; George helped himself to my flapjack and was visited by most of the young handlers. We did our public service bit about the differences between shires and clydes, and a young girl marked off Clydes in her breed-spotters book.
Heavies were the last class of the day, and the show clashed with the local heavy horse society annual ride, so only 2 of us came forward - George and a beautiful Irish Draft, who had won the hunter class earlier and at 6 to George's 19, had everything going for him. Again, George threw everything into his trot up and we got the nod!
The supreme followed straight on, and it was the very first time I've been in a championship. 8 horses came forward, some double qualified.
It wasn't our day, with the supreme going to a wonderful Arab part bred but it was an experience!
Then it was the walk back home, and the sudden realisation that the cold was still there...very proud of my boy though.
That meant I hadn't got my gear together and had to borrow OH's white shirt, and Mum's tie.
Me and Mum, pressed into service as groom, headed out early...and run into a herd of loose cows on the road. After trying to chase them into the nearest field, we went and found a local farmer to retrieve them. Now half an hour late.
Never mind, we made it to the yard and after a good bath that included washing his feathers three times, I hit the road. It was only 3 miles, so we decided to walk rather than hire transport; walk took longer than expected as I had to stop for breath every 10 minutes or so.
Our first class was veterans and wih only 4 entries, I thought we had a chance. Aside from a horse eating monster at C, we went round ok and was happy to be called in second. But he pulled all the stops out for his individual show, and put himself into a super trot, feathers flying, head up and after a long walk round, we were called in first!
After a long period of being admired and looked at in amazement by mini horses who couldn't believe want they were seeing, it was time for coloureds and in a strong class, we came 5th. I was pleased to see the horse eating monster had left.
Lunch came and went; George helped himself to my flapjack and was visited by most of the young handlers. We did our public service bit about the differences between shires and clydes, and a young girl marked off Clydes in her breed-spotters book.
Heavies were the last class of the day, and the show clashed with the local heavy horse society annual ride, so only 2 of us came forward - George and a beautiful Irish Draft, who had won the hunter class earlier and at 6 to George's 19, had everything going for him. Again, George threw everything into his trot up and we got the nod!
The supreme followed straight on, and it was the very first time I've been in a championship. 8 horses came forward, some double qualified.
It wasn't our day, with the supreme going to a wonderful Arab part bred but it was an experience!
Then it was the walk back home, and the sudden realisation that the cold was still there...very proud of my boy though.
