Bad morning for stable training

It all went a bit petetong this morning.

Despite my alarm going off at 6.15am I still managed to arrive late to the yard. A longer than normal snooze (despite the cats best attempts to get me up) and faff with putting the washing out meant I didn’t leave the house until 7.15.

When I arrived I thought I would try and save time by cheekily parking my car at the field. Also halves my hobbling distance which is handy when you have only one working leg. Having parked up and hobbled to the horse I came across the game keeper who said he needed access to the gate way I just parked across. He said it was fine to park there until 10am but my conscience was nagging at me all the way whilst I brought Sofie in. I know I am not meant to park there and today I was in the way. I’m not much of a rebel and so hastily through Sofie in the stable and rushed to retrieve my car.

I just broke one of Sofie and Is ground rules. You do not leave Sofie.

Sofie hates stables. She frets and paces and calls when you leave her in one. She becomes a shit factory which is delightful when you have to clean up the aftermath. 10 minutes in a stable with Sof feels like a lifetime. You get knocked about and shat on whilst she screams in your ears. Again I think this is a separation thing (see separation anxiety post). Whilst she was out of work she would be left in the stable whilst all of her field buddies were being ridden. This must have been really stressful for her.

Over the last few weeks I have been trying to overcome her stable phobia. We spend ten minutes before our ride every morning in one. I choose the mornings as this is when she is at her calmest and the yard is quietest. She gets hay and her lick which she loves and I talk gently to her whilst grooming. At first this was speed grooming. I would get a brush stroke in whilst she span circles around me. After a few sessions she started to settle a bit, realising I wasn’t leaving her, and now mainly stands and eats her lick.

A miracle: two stable haters
Not freaking out

I am not new to stable phobia. Tonto, like with most things, was a terror in a stable. Bit like Sof but add in some aggression, and occasional door climbing. It took me years to get T to stay calmly in a stable. Normally with him the trick is to leave the door open so he doesn’t feel too trapped. Anyway Sof and I had only done stable training for a fortnight. It was def too soon to leave her on her own in there.

But I wasn’t thinking about this when I ran off to get my car. I left her alone in the dark stable. She could not see any other horse and she could not see me. The look of relief on her face and the pathetic little whinny she gave me when I came back was heart breaking. The stable was a shit storm. She had clearly panicked.

I had little time to console her or even groom her. A quick cuddle and brush (which did sooth her somewhat) and straight on with tack. I would have to make it up to her later.

After the ride (which she was lovely on) it was back in the stable. My plan was to make her remember nice things happen here. Unfortunately she was still wound up from her abandonment earlier and was pacing. I needed to pick out her feet and whilst pinned against a wall holding her back foot she kicked out. Nothing nasty, just wanted her foot back to she could pace again, but when you are against a wall with no-where to go it is unpleasant. The unfortunate think about me is if I feel threatened by a horse (which is fairly rare) I tend to get aggressive and assertive. This worked for Tonto because he needs a firm hand at times, but it was precisely the wrong thing to do to Sofie when trying to teach her stables are where nice things happen. I used my boss horse pose (tits out, arms slightly away from sides and arched, and a death stare straight to the eye) and bellowed at her sending her cowering into the corner. She then gave me her back leg to pick out, clearly terrified. Poor little Sofie. First I abandon her now I am shouting at her.

I wonder how many weeks it will take us to be calm in the stable again. I feel awful. I let my own stress (at being short on time) undo all of our training. I felt so guilty I turned her out without her muzzle on, so she will probably come in with sore feet. Another fail. I am not a good horse woman today.

Sofie is a star

Sometimes something happens which makes you take stock and realise how far you have come with your horse. Last Saturday was one of those occasions.

the balloning knee

I've been having some problems with my left knee. It has been long neglected. I have abused it with skiing, hiking, dangerous dancing, and some more skiing for good measure. I tend to ignore all of the subtle warning signs, like when is swells up like a balloon and no longer bends. I just strap it up and carry on. Anyway all of this has taken its toll, and it has gone on a strike of sorts after the last ski trip (waiting for an MRI to see what's up).

Needless to say I haven't stopped horse riding. Last Saturday I was hobbling on my crutches doing the field runs. I start the morning by giving Mr T attention. At least we are equally crippled so we hobble at about the same rate. By the time I was hopping back form the field with Sofie in tow the knee was really beginning to grumble. I decided it was best to ride Sof and lead T to his field in order to avoid more walking.

cheeky Mr T

This plan in theory was fine, except I had not factored in that I had just given my bloody-minded cob painkillers thus freeing up his joints. Sof very patiently waited for me to board and let me lead Mr T. Mr T was not so patient and instantly tried to march off. I managed to reign him back just in time for him to spot scary flapping plastic. Sof had a look but after gentle reassurance passed it. T decided ladies first was the best option and hid the other side - thus tying me in a knot. Then he decided to try and bugger off again. GRAH. I managed to untangle us after some mild swearing and we continued. Sofie could tell I was irritated and started to fret it was her fault. Tonto could also tell but didn't give a damn - he was having too much fun (he doesn't get out much nowadays). Finally we got to T's field and I dismounted to open the gate. Whilst my back was turned Tonto tried his best chat up lines on poor Sofie. Bless her, she had me shouting, Tonto pulling the lead rope across her, flapping plastic, and sexual harassment and she didn't put a foot wrong.





nice view on Sof



Tonto safely away, we went on to have a lovely hack and best of all I managed to lead her back to the field on my crutches. Only a few months ago I had to battle her in a bridle, now she is so quite even a cripple can lead her.





What an ace little horse she is turning out to be.

New shoes

Renegade Viper
fitting shells

Boots boots boots boots boots boots boots!

I am a girl at heart and nothing excites me more than the thought of new shoes. Strangely this also transfers to excitement for new shoes for Sofie. I am not sure she shares my enthusiasm.

Since daring to go bare last Autumn we have been making do with second hand Renegades. I should point out that second hand Renegades is hardly 'making do' as these excellent boots still cost £100 per pair second hand. I didn't want to buy new boots until a) I was sure barefoot is the way forward with Sofie and b) her feet had settled down. In the first few months of going barefoot horses feet tend to change.

1st set of boots

Shoes affect how the feet work as they tend to restrict the flexion in the foot and stop the frog from weight baring. Normally when horses go barefoot their feet tend to get wider, a bit like peoples do if you walk around without shoes for a while. The angle of the feet also tends to change and the heals open up as they tend to be slightly contracted in metal shoes. Anyway I knew Sofies feet would change as she had one stump of a foot in Autumn due to continually ripping off her shoes. I was waiting for this foot to grow back which it thankfully has, we have gone up a size in renegades since last year.



2nd set of boots

Anyway last trim our trimmer finally gave me the green light to go shopping - hurray! Whilst my trimmer may have been happy for me to buy boots, friends, family and fiancé might be less impressed by their price. Saying that over time they may still work out to be economical. A set of shoes cost £80 every 5 weeks in Sofie's case (that is if they stayed on long enough). I think Sofie will need her feet trimmed every 10 weeks at a cost of £35 per visit. So every 10 weeks I will be saving £125. The boots should last several years, I think they will pay their way. I had tried to argue for the boots to be my birthday present but no-one seemed that enthused to give me horse shoes for my birthday. In the end I decided, sod it, I really want them, they are going to be my present to me. I think it is OK to indulge on occasion.

There is an excellent online shop called the hoof boutique which sells a wide range of boots. I have been pestering Liz, the very patient retailer, for a few weeks with my endless questions. Sofie's old boots did not have much traction in the mud, at times we resembled Bambi on ice. Of course this was exacerbated by Sofie desperately trying to avoid getting her princess feet muddy and walking at the top of banks and into trees only to slid back down. I think mainly it was because the renegade classics were old and the tread was wearing out. I asked Liz for her suggestions. It is possible to get the renegades studded but these studs are non-removable and not great for road work. She suggested the new Renegade Vipers which have improved tread and a closer fit. Last week Liz helped me pic out the range of possible boot fits (from the measurements and photos I sent her) and she has sent me fitting shells to try on. It is worth the faff as these boots are not cheap and should last us two years hopefully if I fit them right.

Sofie was uncharacteristically patient as I tried on all the different shells. Her feet were bigger than the measurements I took suggested - just as well I tried the fitting shells. Sofie is a terrible forger, but her renegade classics stand the test so I am confident that the new Viper boots will be fine.





Sofie having a Cinderella moment

The fit is fairly snug, but I like that these boots are not clumpy like a lot of hoof boots are. They also have very little contact with the horses skin so rubbing is minimal. Sofie rides as if they weren't there. She can gallop, jump and spin quiet happily in them.

Mr T in the rug and trainers of shame

I'm not saying all hoof boots are magic. When Mr T was in light work he had some Easy Treck boots. His giant dinner plate feet were too big for the renegades which were developed in USA for quarter horses. The 'Easy treck' boots were far from easy. They constantly fell off, I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time retrieving them from muddy puddles. They were also a bugger to clean. They also seemed to get in the way of his feet. To be fair to the boots though Mr T had very limited range of movement and twists his feet on the ground and forges. I'm not sure any boot would have worked.

So I am now eagerly awaiting the boots arrival. We have gone for black and 'Arizona Copper' for a smart subtle look that might still be spottable in the mud should any of the boots ever fall off. My God I am excited!



Low grade laminitis

A hoof with stress rings, classic
sign of low grade laminitis

The grass is always greener on the other side, or so thought Sofie. By the end of January Sofie was clearly getting fed up with the quality of the grass in her field and started to admire the lawn in her neighbours side of the fence. One poxy electric fence (which did not seem to be turned on) was all that stood in her way. This is not much of an obstacle for a hungry haffy. Clearly her stomark got the better of her and she repeatedly invaded the field next door, I think she was quite pleased with herself. Unfortunately the yard owner was less impressed and after the third attempt to fix the fence was obliterated, Sofie got banished, to another field with better fencing.

Sofie was distraught. Firstly the fence would not be knocked over, secondly there was very little grass in the field and thirdly (and most upsetting) was her bbf was still in her old friend with the devious Sky who would most likely try to steal her. 

Prior to this episode Sofie was still fairly rotund. She had gone all winter with nothing but poor grass and no rugs but Haflingers are designed to live on fresh air so she still hadn't lost much weight.

Skinny Sofie post seperation

Sofie was banished for a whole week whilst the fence was fixed properly and the electric current was restored. She spent the week pacing the fence and staring longingly at her friends. I don't think she ate at all. Her ample fat served her well as she must have used this to survive. By the end of the week she had lost a frightening amount of weight. At first I was pleased, throughout the summer it was like riding a waterbed she was so fat. Shedding the weight would be much healthier for her.

But I think that week may have had a terrible impact on her digestive system.



Tucked up stance Sof was displaying

When she went back into her normal field with her beloved Serenade she started eating again. I noticed she seemed very stiff and a bit sore. She was looking uncomfortable in the field, standing with her hind feet tucked up underneath her. A week later she came in clearly lame, hopping in the school and weight shifting on her back legs when standing on the yard. Her back feet were VERY hot. 

I was really worried. Had she got foot abscesses brewing? I got a farrier to check her out and he could not find anything. His conclusion foot sore. She was put into a stable overnight, much to her horror, to see if being out of the wet would help.

After a sleepless night I returned the next day with her owner. We discovered a very angry but sound horse. The heat had gone and she was charging round on the lunge. How peculiar. I got my trimmer to take a look. She found a slight pulse in her feet and noted that her coronary bands were quite spongy. She suspected low grade laminitis.

It is unusual for horses to get laminitis in their back feet but not unheard of. The grass was not particularly good, but stressed grass can be known to trigger laminitis. Anxiety has also been shown to trigger laminitis. it is possible this is the cause of Sofies sore feet.

Hmmm what to d? I couldn't keep her in, she would destroy the stable and get stressed which would not help. There was only one thing for it - a grazing muzzle. I had bought one for Mr T last year to help with his weight. Mr T responded by smacking his head against a tree for a solid hour in an attempt to destruct the Hannibal lector mask. Mr T is the most stubborn and determined git at times. Fearing concussion I relented and never put it on again. It had sat gathering dust for the past year. Needless to say I was worried about putting Sofie into it. With a heavy heart I attached the muzzle to her head. 

She took it all in her stride amazingly. She soon learnt how to guzzle hay through it and had no problem drinking. She doesn't even protest when I put it on.

Her feet are a lot better, and her weight is keeping in control. I am fairly confident she does have problems digesting sugar though I have not had it confirmed by a vet.it would explain why her feet were so bad last summer and why she kept loosing shoes. Time will tell I guess. 

This episode has made me far more determined to monitor and control her weight. I have signed her up for a laminitic study CARE (and Mr T as well as they need healthy controls) I have teamed up with my friend who also has a chunky horse to make a pony fat club. We have weekly weigh ins and are  recording our progress.  We will be working on a fitness plan as soon as the clocks go back and evening riding becomes possible. oh dear, I am starting to sound more and more like a barefoot hippy. Here I am talking about diet and exercise and using a muzzle. I really do think it is for her best interest though, however much Sofie will disagree.

Poor Sofie, I think she will miss the carefree days of last summer.

Separation anxiety

After the 'how haflingers work' revelation (see getting to know Sofie post) I stated to invest more time in trying to work out what was causing Sofie's bad behaviour.

By far her worst habit is bolting to the field. She was always reluctant to leave the field and keen to return. So keen in fact she sometimes returned without me (via breaking loose). She was unsettled on the yard and paced in stables. There was a distinct 'I want to be somewhere else' vib from her. She would call, and get particularly agitated if she saw other horses leaving. I noticed she was happier when I rode her in the morning, where all of her herd were in the field - in her opinion where they were meant to be. In particular she worried about where her bested friend Serenade was.

Sofie charging back to her freinds

I've noticed horses are a bit like school children. They have cliques, BBFs, rivalries, and squabble over boyfriends and girlfriends. In Sofies 'class' she is the prom queen - obviously. Serenade is the cool kid everyone wants to be friends with. Sky is the Sofies prom queen rival, Rosie is Sky's henchman, Fly is the awkward kid no one likes, and the driving ponies act as groupies. Sofie bosses everyone around, standard. So it might seem surprising that she has so many anxieties about leaving the group given she is a confident mare.

I started reading into separation anxiety in horses. Sofie fit all the categories. Horses who get separation anxiety tend to be the most dominant in their herd. The theory as to why is they have most to loose if they are booted out of the herd or have to fit into a new herd dynamic. The have often pair bonded with a particular horse - in Sofie's case Serenade.

I think Sofie gets worried because 1) she likes to know what and where all of her herd are and 2) she never knows what Sky is up to. This would explain why she is happier when she leaves them all together and is more upset when horses are missing.

So what could I do to help? Well first of all not to shout when she is creating a seen. She is actually distressed rather than being bloody minded so shouting will just wind her up. Secondly gradually increase the amount of time she is away from the herd to get her used to it. Thirdly I read that if the horse pair bonds with its rider, there are fewer problems removing it from the herd.

I started to spend more time building a bond with Sofie. We did mutual grooming (I let her mess my hair up whilst I scratched her neck, mmm horse slobber hair). I played games with her. I spent more time learning her body language and using mine to communicate with her (something Mr T taught me - mainly because if I read him wrong, or he miss read me he would get defensive. Nothing like an angry 1 tone horse to make you learn fast).

All of this bonding time seems to have worked. She is still worried when leaving the field but not fretting as much. She now walks calmly to the field rather than trying to tank off. Brilliant. Slight problem though - I can't leave her eyesight. As soon as I do, for instance to go and get her saddle from the tack room, she panics and breaks loose. Bugger.

Dare to go bare



showing me her toes

In the first few months of loaning Sofie I was constantly replacing her shoes. As soon as we had nailed them on she would rip the buggers off. Her feet were in a bad way. They were crumbling and looked very long in my opinion (I should point out that I am no farrier). It got to the point that she was removing shoes as fast as I was putting them on. She seemed to loose the front left shoe most often and she was damaging the foot as a result. She ended up with a stumpy foot. Enough was enough, if this continued she was going to do herself some real damage.



The original barefooter Frodo

The first horse I ever owned was a little 13.1 pony called Frodo. He was as old as time (late thirties but no one really knew as he didn't have enough teeth to age properly) but remarkably healthy. We got him from a friend, we exchanged our old dishwasher for her old pony (we may then have placed bets as to which would last longer). Both went on far past our expectations, though the dishwasher pegged Frodo by 6 months. For all of his many years Frodo never had shoes. His feet were tough as nails. I never really thought about it, I was 12.

Mr T with his bare feet

When Mr T arrived we put shoes on him. After all you always shoe horses right? We couldn't get shoes on his back feet as he was too wild. He also managed to kick the farrier square on the goolies which may have also strongly influenced the no back shoes decision. Again I never thought about whether shoes were the right thing to do. Everyone shoes, so we shod. It was only when Mr T was diagnosed with ring bone and my vet told me to remove his shoes I started to question why I shod in the first place. Barefoot removes a lot of concussion from the legs as the foot naturally absorbs the shocks. Barefoot also improves circulation in the feet (as they are stimulated by the ground) which can help healing. We were advised to take off shoes for these benifits.

Now before you panic I have not joined the natural horsemanship-barefoot-hippy-tribe. I do not think shoes, bits, saddles, rugs and everything unnatural is cruel and evil. But I think I now question conventional wisdom a bit more. Are shoes really necessary when you are a happy hacker and have a horse with good feet? If they are not necessary, and barefoot has advantages, why am I shoeing my horse?

Sofies pretty foot

For Sofie at least barefoot seemed to be the only way forward - she seemed to be removing her shoes herself anyway. Like most things, Sofie had taken the decision out of my hands. The first few days she was very foot sore and her feet seemed to be chipping away at an alarming rate. I was panicking that I had made the wrong call. However very quickly her feet tidied up and were actually a much better shape than they had been with shoes. She was no longer very footy, stones were a problem but absolutely fine on mud and grass. Her feet are now perfect, in my very biased opinion.

I still didn't want to hack her barefoot as there is a nasty stony road we need to go down to get to most of the hacking. Luckily there is a strange world of hoof boots out there. A friend has some old Renegade hoof boots for sale and as fate would have it they fitted Sof perfectly. They are brilliant. She rides like they are not there and they allow us to go across rough tracks pain free. We can do everything in them, gallop, jump no worries. I feel like it is the best of both worlds for us. No more loosing shoes and damaged feet and no painful bruising from stones.

Sofie in her Ruby slippers

Getting to know Sofie

One of the first thing you discover about Sofie is that she has an opinion… about everything. When you first get to know her this is incredibly wearing, mainly because in her opinion she is right and everything you say that is counter to this is by default wrong. 

Sofie protesting

She doesn’t suffer fools lightly. You do not keep Sofie waiting for good reason.

Sofie protesting

If you tie her on the yard and walk away you are wasting her time. Stamp Stamp, scrap scrap, snap – she’s off.

Anything short of gallop to the field is too slow. Stamp Stamp, shack shack, wrench she’s off.

If she wanted to be where I was standing I would be unceremoniously booted out the way by her sizable arse.

If she didn't want to go past something on a ride, or get her feet dirty she would spin or reverse at speed then charge in the direction she wanted to go.

She hated waiting at the mounting block. After a few weeks I finally lost my temper and slapped her for charging off. I have never seen an animal so indignant! She reacted by charging round the yard as if she had been beaten. Once I had finally struggled on she first hit reverse then ploughed forward in a bid to bolt to her field. The rest of the hack continued in a similar fashion until she felt she had made enough of her point. Not quite the gentle introduction I was hoping for.

Hacking she was generally fine in front but a pain in the arse if she wasn't in the lead. If the horse in front showed any indication that they might accelerate away she panicked and started dancing sideways. I found this quite alarming. Amusingly we were meant to be babysitting Smee’s race horse on most of our hacks as he had just come back into work from his summer vacation. It turns out the thoroughbred race horse was more sensible than the fat halflinger and they baby sat us!

It soon became apparent that white lines were the line she would not cross. After a week or two I decided it was time to face traffic. There is a fairly busy road we need to cross in order to access most of the hacking grounds near the yard. Sofie did not blink an eye at the busses and motor bikes, but utterly freaked out at the thought of crossing the white lines on the road. I did a hasty dismount to lead her across safely ( I normally have a no dismount policy, but I was not prepared to mess about on a busy road, I value my life more than my principles). She eventually lead across the line, but gave it a good 3ft clearance (quite an unexpectedly athletic leap) to be extra safe.

As summer faded to autumn and the English weather set to its default position of rain a new challenge arose. A bizarre pathological phobia of puddles. She hated them. A gently potter down a country lane was abruptly halted by a 1 cm deep puddle across the road. I didn’t really comprehend why this was a problem so kicked her on. She snorted and suddenly turned and bolted the other direction, nearly taking out my poor friend and her cob in the process. It was quite a battle to get her through, which she did at speed whilst closing her eyes and holding her breadth.

So the first few months were a series of arguments. I found myself almost constantly telling her off. She was never nasty or dangerous but constantly irritating to me. I didn’t understand her. I thought she was just being obstinate.

A friend then sent me the following link on Haflingers.

If the Haflinger believes that he knows more than you, or that he has a better plan than you, it can be difficult to convince him to listen. For example, if a Haflinger has decided that walking into a water hazard is unsafe, he may be very reluctant or refuse to go. He is not doing this to be stubborn or vindictive; he has just decided that the water might be dangerous and the smartest thing to do is to stay out of it. Rather than trying to make the horse into going into the water by force, it is far better to teach him that it is safe – perhaps through the use of a lead horse or a smaller hazard. This way, the Haflinger will learn that you’re a sound leader who will not use force to accom­plish what you want. This is a far better lesson than one taught through violence.

Keep the horse’s intelligence in mind throughout all your training. Think of him as a smart animal who is trying to figure out the best way to get through life, rather than an animal who is trying to get the best of you. It’s your job to stay a step ahead of him, correct small problems before they become bigger issues, and treat him with respect.

Sofie putting up with my
Christmas cheer

The description was so perfect for Sofie and my situation. Sofie did not trust me, and me shouting and scolding her was not helping. I have since changed my way with her. I spend more time treating her opinions with respect, however silly they seem to me. I try to work out why she is putting her foot down. More often than not it is because she perceives a threat. I then try to reassure her and gently convince her that my way is better. This is a much more successful approach, we do not fight half as much any more. She now listens to my opinion and has begun to trust me. We have developed some ground rules, pushing me over is not OK, but leaving her unattended is not OK either. The more time I spend with her the more I realise how much she wants to please. She is affectionate and loves nothing more than a cuddle... okay carrot then cuddle, but the cuddle is important. When I groom her she grooms me back and she is always happy to see me. She just needed a bit of time and patience,  okay a lot of patience. 

I have come to realise that Sofie is a high maintenance princess but she actually has a heart of gold.

The beginnings

In order to tell the tale of Sofie I need to start with how I came to be her human. This involves talking about horses which are not Sofie, which will displease her highness I am sure. Never-the-less it is a necessary evil, so I shall begin.

My sister on Sam

Back in 1999, when I was a skinny awkward teenager Mr T (Tonto) arrived into my life somewhat unexpectedly. We were looking for a new pony for my older sister who had sadly lost her beloved Sam to grass sickness. We had asked for a six year old, green but broken, dark coloured native 14 hand ish pony. No white, def not a cob. We got a two year old, unbroken, mainly white (coloured), psychotic 15 hand, pikey cob. 

The wounderful Mr T

Needless to say we were disappointed. However my sister realised that this horrid cob was only going to go to meat if we did not take him, so the plan was for her to work on him until she leaves for university then sell him to a nice home. Two years passed, but no one would by him and by 2001 I found myself unwilling owner of one angry cob. Sixteen years later I still own Mr T and would not part with him for the world. He taught me everything I know about horses and I owe him so much. In 2010 he was diagnosed with ring bone, by 2012 it was clear that it was time to hang up our riding boots. He now lives a life of luxury in retirement. I see him most days for a cuddle and a groom.



Stu nice but dim

So I am now in a position where I spend all my money on a horse I can’t ride. I started to try and find ways I could stay in the saddle. For the first year I helped a friend break in highland ponies. He needed a small jocky, and I needed a ride. This worked fairly well until the point where we needed to sell the ponies. I got too attached to the hairy little buggers (highland ponies are very sneaky, they steal your heart when you least expect it). I particularly fell for a little pony named Stockey. I called him Stu nice but dim. He was the sweetest little horse but could be quite anxious. I had formed a real bond with him as had Mr T, and was desperate to buy him. I just didn’t have the money. Unfortunately, on our last ride, Stockey got spooked when I stupidly tried to carry a feed bucket whilst riding. He panicked and galloped headlong into a wire fence, catapulting me head-first into a road. I sustained a nasty concussion which took months to recover from. His legs were scared by the wire fence, but in reality we were both lucky. Stokey was sold to a nice home a few weeks later. I was heartbroken. I had also dented my confidence as well as my head. I tried sharing a horse for a few weeks to get my confidence back but we didn’t get on and it was too expensive for me. Things looked a bit bleak.

And then princess Sofie came into my life (finally she gets to the point I hear her saying). Sofie had been kicking (sometimes literally) around the yard I keep Tonto at for a few months. Her owners inherited her from a friends daughter. The daughter had got her from the RSPCA and adored her. Unfortunately she had health issues and so could not care for her, hence how she came to arrive at our yard. Sofie’s owners had hoped she would be nice and placid like the Haflinger they had ridden before. They had wanted to drive her. Sofie turned out to be anything but placid and was too opinionated for driving and riding. The net result was she was left in the field getting increasingly fat.

Sofie le Sofa when I first started loaning her

So here was me looking for a horse and Sofie looking for a rider.



I was a bit apprehensive about getting on her, after all she hadn’t been ridden regularly in months. I was told she was good in the school, providing you can catch her and keep her on the yard long enough to get the saddle on – she was a known hudini. Her favourite trick is to break the bailing twine and gallop full pelt back to her field. I managed to catch her after only a brief game of chase in the field and brought her in. She was in a bit of a state. Morbidly obese, the fat pads had fat pads on them. She was missing the front shoe, one nail still incrementally stuck out of her bare foot to signal the shoes demise. She also had a fair amount of sweet itch, her main and tail resembling a well-used bog-brush in places.

Post head injury I was not taking any chances and got my no-sense-of-self-preservation friend Smee to ride her in the school. My mistrust was miss-placed. She was very well behaved and woddeled around the ring with very little protest. After seeing that this hippo was friendly I decided to have a sit. A slight head shake indicated that she did have a little spirit, but really she was an angel. Stage two, new shoes and hacking.

I was still dubious about taking her on a hack, especially as no-one knew if she had ever hacked before. Once again Smee played guini-pig and rode her whilst I borrowed a friend’s horse. We decided to play do-or-die by taking her for a canter in open fields. I wanted to see her at her worst before committing to taking her on. Sofie clearly though open fields were better than the school which I think had bored her senseless. Still her excitement was nothing nasty. A bit of head shaking and a little buck. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Thinking back to it, at her weight I don’t think she could have managed much more than a head-shake or a buck even if she had wanted to. Luckily this hadn’t occurred to me at the time and I decided that yes, I was going to give this mare a go.