Horse Tales – Part 2
After the seventh attempt to get her to walk up the ramp onto the trailer, the will to rescue this mangy old nag was quickly slipping away, as was the control over my temper.
Standing in the rain in the car park of the Manchester Arms using every trick my friend Si and I knew to get a horse that wasn’t even mine to load onto a trailer wasn’t my idea of a fantastic Saturday afternoon.
Harley didn’t seem to understand that I was trying to save her from freezing/starving to death under the neglectful care of her owner. Either that, or she thought it was hilarious to be an awkward bitch.
We tried putting some straw down to cover the ramp; horses aren’t the cleverest of animals and are easily duped. Apparently not this one though. She’s cleverer than she looks, contrary to the myth about Thoroughbreds being the bimbos of the horse world.
We tried looping a lunge line round her bony arse to persuade her to walk forwards. That resulted in her spinning round, knocking Si over and getting her legs tangled in the lunge line in the process.
We tried everything. And you know what; I can’t even remember what worked in the end. I think she just got bored of mocking us and getting wet and decided to put herself on the trailer in her, what I was soon to learn was typical, contrary fashion.
I felt very pleased with myself, in a holier-than-thou and virtuous way. I had SAVED this poor, defenceless animal. She would have DIED that winter were it not for me.
Little did I know I’d regularly be wishing death upon her for the next five years.
Look at that innocent face.