Blacky horse is a fine figure of a thorough bred race
horse, with the edgy temperament that goes with race horses, so taking him from
the well oiled environment of a racing yard with long fast gallops and single
minded goals of reaching the finish line first to a wholesome, friendly yard with
ponies and cobs for neighbours was no mean feat for Jessica. She did wonders to
turn this speed machine into an elegant dressage boy. Her knowledge of all
things horsy, her keen awareness and amazing intuition allowed them to work as
one entity in the ring.
Along the way Jessica worked out Blacky’s foibles,
trying hard to ease him out of them, including his innate fear of sheep!, yes I
did say sheep. Even if they are in the furthest field from him he will spot
them and go into a paddy so when he was rushed into the Royal Veterinary
College with a cut on his leg and was about to be taken past a couple of sheep
all trussed up in their walking harnesses he made it quite clear he was going
nowhere near them….. vicious fury creatures that they are! The route was soon
changed and although he could occasionally hear the sheep he could not see
them.
One of his other strange enigmas is whistling men.
He can hear them from the bottom of the drive and again will
have a paddy.
The farrier soon learned to stifle his happy little whistling
tunes as he worked, else he would be retrieving a crazed race horse on a manic
high.
We sadly feel Blacky had a whistling groom at one of his old yards that
was far from nice to him.
I often joke with Jessica wondering what Blacky would do if
he ever saw a whistling sheep!
Just as Jessica thought she had every one on the yard
trained not to whistle around him, she found herself in Blacky’s box at the end
of the day, all nice and calm with the usual radio on for him and his pony
friend, Spirit, only to hear the first few moments of Whistling Jack Smith emanating
from the speaker… Blacky’s ears went back his neck stretched like a giraffe and
the white of his eyes appeared! Panic set over Jessica as she found herself pinned
to the back of the box trying hard to calm the mighty black beast whilst grappling
for the radio. She saw her chance and took it, gliding past his prickly shinny
coat for the exit, just in time before he threw himself around the box to Jack
Smith’s whistling tune of The Happy Wanderer!
Titan's Tale - Kindle / PC book
www.helenthehealer.co.uk
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