Horse_amp_amp_Hound__06_February_2018

GOODNIGHT
‘The ponies are
getting on my wick’
Enticing her children to ride when the weather is grim proves
tricky for Tessa Waugh — and means she has ponies eyeballing
her through the kitchen window as they stand by the gate
THE ponies are getting on my
nerves at the moment. They
are in a field near the house
and every time I look out of
the kitchen window they are
standing at the gate, eyeballing me, as if to
say, “yoo-hoo, we’re over here, come and do
something with us”. It’s intrusive. I wish they
would go away and graze or something.
It is a rotten time of year for ponies. There
isn’t much going on until Alec gets back from
‘He soon came
looming out of the
darkness with the
whites of his eyes
showing and an
expression that
screamed, “get me
away from her”’
school for some hunting, and enticing Mary
on board is proving difficult when it’s cold/
wet/windy/all of the above. The sheep have
eaten most of the grass (very selfish animals,
sheep), so I’ve been feeding the ponies hay and
bringing them in when the weather is bad.
One evening, to save time, I opened the
gate and let them bring themselves in. Joshy,
the old boy (and only sensible one) trotted
down the road and straight into his stable,
followed by the new one, Rusty, who could
smell food. Typically, our resident “mutton”
and sex pest, Custard, sashayed (albeit slightly
arthritically) in front of Jim as if to say, “fancy
a ride, big boy?” before disappearing behind
the muck heap with Jim on her tail. He soon
came looming out of the darkness with the
whites of his eyes showing and an expression
that screamed, “get me away from her”.
THERE was sad news from Wiltshire
this week that got me thinking about
the special nature of hunting. Dave
Acreman, lifelong follower of the South and
West Wilts, has died after a short struggle
with cancer. Dave was a perennial on the
South and West Wilts scene; recognisable for
a sartorial combo of flat cap and black coat,
belted up with binder twine.
We weren’t exactly friends — most of
our conversations didn’t go beyond “Aaaarrr
Teeessss”; “Morning Dave” — but there was,
certainly on my side, a deep regard borne out
of our shared love of hunting. Dave was there
on the last legal hunting day when the fox was
caught in the twilight after a fast-paced hunt
on Salisbury Plain. It was a very emotional
day and everyone felt it as we packed up in
the twilight. “Aaarrr Teeesss,” said Dave, and
wrapped me in a big bear hug. I won’t forget
that day and I won’t forget Dave. H&H
The Nespresso machine
TERESA arrived at the yard
a month ago in a cloud of Jo
Malone, dressed from head to
toe in Pikeur. She brought with
her two super-shiny German
dressage horses, four Hermès
saddles, a top-of-the-range
Whittaker lorry with pop-out
sides and a Sky dish — and
a Nespresso machine.
“I really can’t drink instant;
I’d rather die,” announces
Teresa, looking in horror at the
catering-size tin of supermarket
own-brand coffee and UHT milk.
“Do help yourselves,” she
adds generously, putting a
By CATHERINE AUSTEN
big box of capsules next to the
machine and four pints of Waitrose
semi-skimmed in the fridge.
The other liveries are pretty
suspicious. What’s wrong with
instant? Why are the capsules
different colours? But, like foals
edging towards something new
and strange, eventually someone
is brave enough to try it. After
a couple of disasters when
overfilling the milk-frother, they are
addicted. They like the purple and
black capsules best, and feel rather
cosmopolitan, standing round
the tackroom heater sipping their
Nespressos after riding.
“And Teresa
says I can borrow
her Equissage pad
whenever I want,”
chirps Cheryl.
“She says she
can give me a lift
to Addington next
month,” pops
in Trisha.
“And she suggested I shared
her lesson with Spencer next time,”
adds Jo. “I think she’s actually all
right...”H&H
NEXT
WEEK
The moody mare
rugby shirt
Illustration by Emma Earnshaw. Picture by sarahfarnsworth.co.uk
90 Horse & Hound 8 February 2018