The rescue

The week after my monumental fuck-up was a week of panic phone calls, trying to find a yard to move Sofie to and a way of getting her there and finding a way of paying for it.

The whole thing is far more complicated when you are pregnant. I am not meant to lift anything, I cannot risk loading Sofie myself, and I am also generally meant to be avoiding stress. Also my system is full of hormones so trying to be rational and make sensible decisions and communicate clearly is almost impossible. I am also in trouble with my husband, he is very disappointed that Sofie has returned, the term ‘millstone round your neck’ was used.

Never-the-less I have lovely friends and family. Dad promised to cover livery if I couldn’t, which made livery options possible. Our old yard would accept us back with open arms at short notice. Gem offered to collect Sofie in her lorry and her lovely bf offered to be on hand to provide some muscle. My neighbour Scott offered to help me move her stuff using his van and basically do all the lifting for me. I hate being so useless!

It was a Friday evening pick up, Katie had moved Sofie to a field nearer home and popped her rug on. Sofies sweet itch was already looking better which made me feel even more foolish about how I handled the whole thing. Still too late now, nothing left to do but collect.

Scott and I arrived on time and loaded up. Sofie was pleased to see me and gave me a little whinny on arrival. This made me feel worlds better. Gem got stuck in traffic so arrived late, and then had difficulty getting her lorry through the tight gate. This meant we started loading Sofie much later than planned. Poor Sofie was a bit startled by the who situation and refused to load. She dragged Gem off her feet so I took over. I stopped her from tanking, but was persuaded by everyone that this wasn’t something I should be doing. Gems boyfriend had a go instead. He didn’t have much more luck. We tired lundge lines and a whip – but that just made it worse. It was getting dark and I hated stressing Sofie out and keeping everyone waiting.

Then Katie arrived to move in some hay. I felt very awkward, having not seen her since our fall out. Katie was actually very sweet and offered to get a bucket of feed to help. This gave me the idea to put treats in a feed bucket and wave it from the jockey door. Instantly this did the trick – sof not only had the draw of food but could also see that the box was not a dead end and so felt comfortable enough to entre. I quickly tied her up, got my arm a bit squished in the process, but at least bump was out of harms way. Soon we were off back home.

By this point it was getting very dark – nearly 10pm. I rushed Sofie down the field with Sam – again I couldn’t lead her which was annoying. It was so dark we couldn’t see the horses in the field we were trying to lead though. On sues a horse tornado as Sofie is attacked by three horses and poor Sam is at the centre of the whirlwind. I definalty should not be in a horse tornado whilst pregnant. Thankfully another livery came to our rescue and between the 3 of us after 30mins of scrabbling around in the dark and we manage to finally rescue Sofie from her persecutors and put her in a field on her own.

Poor poor Sofie, what I horrid welcome home! It is also very clear that I am in no position to care for her. What a mess!