Beacon Villages
Under Cosdon Beacon Dartmoor Devon UK
 Alezane's Diary |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Saturday 1 st January 2005 It was an interesting start to the new year. I can say that without exaggeration. It started normal enough. HE came out to do late stables and told me that there would be some fireworks tonight but to take no notice. THEY were not going to stay up to see in the new year but were just going to bed at THEIR normal time. Anyway, I ate my supper and forgot all about it. Sure enough, there were some bangs around midnight but nothing very much or frightening so I just did my usual of turning my back on the door and carrying on eating my haylage and dozing. The next thing I know, it must have been about three in the morning, there was some sort of motor vehicle with a load of lights flashing came and pulled up outside our front gate. I kept my head in but watched it very carefully out of the corner of my eye. Then I noticed HIM outside talking to two men in very bright shiny coats who followed HIM into the house. A little later one of then came back to his motor (HE later told me it is called an ambulance) and got some sort of chair on wheels which he took into the house. By this time, I did have my head out of the door, watching intently the goings on. After a short while, when nothing happened but the lights on top of the ambulance kept rotating and flashing, SHE was half wheeled, half carried out, sitting in the chair, by the two men. They then rolled HER up the ramp into the ambulance and I lost sight of her. HE stood outside the back door of the motor for quite a while and then one of the men closed the door. HE came over to me and told me that SHE had come over all wheezy and was being taken to hospital. HE gave me some mint sweets and said that HE was going to follow the ambulance in HIS car but that HE would be back in time for my breakfast. As Wicky would say, at least HE had HIS priorities right. After a further longish wait, they all drove off and the road became dark and quiet again. Just after five in the morning, HE drove up. HE came over for a brief chat and disappeared indoors. After that, things appeared to return to normal. HIS kitchen lights came on at the normal time of six thirty and HE came out and gave me a carrot and stroked my nose. After HE had HIS coffee, HE came out and cleared out my stable, gave me my breakfast and drove off to give the two old lads their breakfast as well. Twenty five minutes later, HE drove back, changed my rugs and walked me up to Ninefields. The only difference there was that HE had to walk back home again instead of getting a lift from HER in HER car. THEY both turned up this evening, as usual and the weather had changed from bright and sunny to very windy with downpours of rain. The wind always makes me skittery so we had an interesting walk home too. I told you it was an interesting start to 2005! "Well what, Alli?" Monday 3 rd January 2005 "Yes Alli?" "What, Treg?" Sorry about this. "What is it now, Tregony?" "Tell you what, Treg. Go up the field and see if you can find any bunnies. Try it out on them and see if they find it amusing." So! What can I tell you about today? There was the dangerous thing lurking up the hill, opposite my stable. But it's hard to put it into words. I didn't actually see it but just nearly. Every time I put my head in, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. I would shoot my head out of the stable door and stretch my head up high as high it will go but it would just elude me. But I could hear it alright. One morning I'm going to be too quick for it. Still, as long as I keep my wits about me, it won't be able to sneak up on me.
Tuesday 4 th January 2005
Wednesday 5 th January 2005 Quite forgot why I was looking at it and then even forgot to look at it and started thinking about my supper bucket. When, orl of a sudden, it's beak shot out or at least shot down and then came back up with something in it.
However, not put off by this slight set back, I looked and consulted my rule book again. If the bird was doing this in a field wot didn't even have a river in it but did have a big sign up wot said 'NO POACHING or nicking things wot don't belong to you - or else you are in even worse trouble', if it had one of those then it would be my duty to go and catch it bang to rites as they say. I proceded to take my eyes off of the rule book and hobserve the field for signs of the aforesaid big sign. 'Oh double fetlocks' I thought. No big sign. Now I was in a quandary - or is that a laundry?
Defective Constable Bay , Tregony of the Human Watch
Thursday 6 th January 2005 "Wicky, are you really serious about applying for that job?" "Alright, if you say so. Now, go out of the field shelter and then come back in again when I call you." "I'm good at eating!" "Ah, now you're getting to it, lassie. 'Well, I eat every day. With a bit of luck all day and if I can keep awake, all night as well. When I was a foal on Dartmoor , I learned to eat all manner of rubbish that the tourists used to give us. I used to eat some things that they didn't give us as well, when they weren't looking. Then, when I went to the riding stable, there was always a little girl around who thought I was cute and they would slip me the odd snack now and again and again and again." "'No, I mean between good and bad food'"
Friday 7 th January 2005 And what's been happening in my world, while the old boys have been adjusting to the New Year? Well, not a lot really. Mt stable has gone back to normal. No more Weather-wise, we have been having some very strong winds and, with the tall trees on the hill above my stable, the winds sound even more fierce than they are. I think I have told you that I always get wound up when it's windy. Well, this morning the wind coincided with the day that HE had been told not to take HIS normal asthma puffer as HE had to go to the doctor's for tests. Now the wind drove me to almost run up the hill to Ninefields this morning whilst, at the same time, HE was out of breath even before HE started. I'm afraid that I nearly killed HIM. By the time we got to Ninefields, all HE could do was collapse in the car that SHE drove up to collect HIM in. HE was a little better by tonight and anyway it was downhill. HE asked me a question as we walked home. HE said 'why is it that you always stop and want to look around on the way home when we are walking downhill but never when I am struggling to keep up with you, going up in the morning?' You know, that is a good question, that. I must remember to ask Tregony. I'm sure I don't know why. That's life, I expect!
Saturday 8 th January 2005
At the time I was pleased HE did because I was getting more and more wound up with all the banging and crashing. However, later that night, when THEY had gone to bed, an even worse event occurred. I was nearly crushed by a falling tree! The wind co0ntinued unabated and I ventured to look out after THEY had gone. The tree standing at the corner of the house was swaying wildly and I was just lucky to get back inside before one very large gust toppled it. Crash, it went, right down by my door. I just moved right over into the far corner of my stable and thanked my lucky stars that I had survived. In the morning, HE came out to give me my pre breakfast carrot and noticed the tree lying on its side. While HE was feeding me HE said how lucky it was that it didn't still have the Xmas lights on it when it fell and then HE walked over to it and stood it back up in its bucket before carrying it back to the other side of the garden where it normally lives. Well, OK, I didn't say it was very big, did I? But, a girl can't be too careful you know. HE reckons that when God made horses he put a great big dollop of fear into them, just to keep them safe. Well, it's worked up to now, hasn't it?
Sunday 9 th January 2005 Tregony had another lay in this morning. He has a certain way of laying very, very flat that makes everyone who sees him sure that he has There was a time when SHE would encourage Treg to get up by putting on his head collar and waving a reed about, pretending it was a stick. This often would have the effect, certainly, of putting Treg onto his four legs but really that didn't bring the rest of him back at all. Even now, when Treg gets up in his own time, a certain lack of co-ordination has been noticed. His bucket will be waiting for him in the field shelter but he will make a determined effort to get to the place that he normally waits at, before his bucket arrives. When he gets there, something deep, deep inside him tells him that no one else is there and he verges off towards the field shelter, only to be struck by another thought which swings him past it, just as he is nearly there. And in this way, I think they call it 'tacking' at sea, he finally gets to join up with his bucket. It must be a very pleasant surprise for him to wake up and find himself eating. (Something Wicky has aimed for all his life). However, don't be fooled into thinking that Tregony is silly. It's just that he has a slower 'mental' metabolism to the rest of us. On a good day, he can recognise a carrot, flying through the air, in the time it takes HER to put her arm down again. It's just that it takes all sorts, as they say!
Monday 10 th January 2005 "Excuse me, Wicked old chap?" "Mais non, mon ami, après vous! TEE hee hee splutter!" Tuesday 11 th January 2005 I'm feeling vindicated now. All that business about me being 'an old silly' because of the strength of the wind and the very lightly veiled sarcasm in that piece about the Christmas tree being blown over! HE was looking out of the upstairs window this morning and saw a really big tree, in the recreation ground just HE was happy this afternoon however because the weather behaved better than the forecasters had predicted. As HE sat over HIS morning coffee, they said that there would be very strong, dangerous winds and pouring rain this afternoon, after a bright start in the morning. 'I expect it will come just as I have to walk Alli home', HE moaned. But it didn't. For once the weather was kind to HIM and the gales and torrential rain came earlier, just after lunch and were all but over by tea time. That was the only really interesting thing today (apart from the weather). We saw Clarence's cows, as we walked home, all standing huddled up right up by the hedge at the end of their field, many of them standing in the stream but making nothing of it, just as if they were standing on dry ground. (I use that last term figuratively as there is no such thing on Dartmoor , particularly at this time of year!) Oh, and one last thing. HE told me, as we walked up to Ninefields this morning, that Tregony had another lie in. So soon after his last one is slightly worrying but maybe it is just the atrocious weather we have been having and the fact that it calmed down a bit in the morning. Maybe the old guy had been just waiting for a time to have a lay down when the weather improved. However, it was also not such good news that Treg had some problems getting up again. He made several attempts and just kept falling back and rolling over. In the end, HE took Treg's head collar over and decided that the straps on the front of Treg's rug were too tight and were hampering him getting a balance. So the combined effect of head collar, loosened straps and lots of 'good boy' encouragements and Treg made it in one. HE told me, 'I'll say this for him. Once he was up, there was no stopping him getting to his breakfast bucket!' Wicked was proud of him. HE has a theory, though. HE thinks that Wicky tells Treg to have a lay in because then Wick gets to have more treats while they are waiting for Treg to finish. Rather like the weather, it's an ill wind .!
Wednesday 12 th January 2005 "Hey, Runny, what are you doing out at this time of day?"
Thursday 13 th January 2005 "Ere, Wick. Wot's them two old rabbits doing up there?"
Friday 14 th January 2005 It was a brilliantly sunshiny day. Not a cloud in the sky and the temperature had been in the high regions since before breakfast. We had all been out on a training ride first thing, had come back, rested and been fed. Now, I was being tacked up again, this time for a pleasant, solitary ride around the countryside. My rider was the wife of my 'lad' who had come along to the stables as she had a day free from her normal work as a lawyer for a big firm in the nearby city. She was an experienced rider and we had both been out together before. I liked her as she was very light on my mouth and knew all the foot and body signals that I was used to. Once I was tacked up, she mounted and we started off, out of the yard and along the local lane, both of us enjoying the sunshine and the birdsong and the view of the rolling countryside. Now, I am not a silly mare, regardless what HE says about me. I sized the situation up straight away. The lad had just jumped off my back and not stopped to tie me up. I knew that I didn't belong here and that there would be a nice big haynet waiting for me back at the stables. So0, I did what any self respecting horse would do. I left the humans to sort themselves out as best they could and I high tailed it back to the stables as fast as my legs would carry me. As I turned in at the yard gate, I just slowed enough to notice that there was no one around and then I walked smartly over to my stable. Luckily the door was open, so I just walked straight in and started munching at my hay net. "Cor, Alli, didn't you get into trouble?"
Saturday 15 th January 2005 "Ere, Wick. What d'you think of Alli's story yesterday?" On the subject of predation, I have to report some very disturbing incidents today. Now, imagine, it was a Sunday, a day of rest and relaxation, of prayer and meditation. And strangely, if you are a horse (or even a pony), a day of silent, enjoyable grazing. It would appear that, if you are a human, Sunday is not that kind of a day, particularly when the weather is at all kind. No, Sunday for humans (some of them, anyway) is a day for taking very small but very noisy motor bikes up onto the Ramsley mine waste tip hills and then seeing how fast and how loudly you can go up and down the bumps. Now, it's not my business what humans get up to, to enjoy themselves. I can even see what pleasure they might get from this kind of activity. But, that doesn't mean that it doesn't scare me or that I have to like it too. I expect I should blame the weather because the other thing that we found equally disturbing today was the sound of lots of human shouting and laughing coming from somewhere in the direction of the main road. I call it the main road to distinguish it from the Throwleigh Road which runs past our field. The humans call it the 'old A30' because that is what it was until the big by-pass was built about 15 years ago. Before then it was the main road between Exeter in Devon and Cornwall and the west. It was long before my time but HE has told me that, during the summer tourist season, the road would be nose to tail full of cars. Anyway, I digress. To help you locate the sounds that disturbed us, I will tell you that this is the road that goes over Dry Bridge and Dry Bridge is so called because a road (the one I walk to and from home along) passes underneath it. Anyway, the upshot of all this noise and disturbance today is that Treg, Wick and I decided to stay up in the high fields today to be sure of staying safe. Now you may think that silly but our nature is to run first and ask questions later (and if you can't do that, forget about the questions)! It could well be some people having a whale of a time but it could equally be a raiding party out to catch and eat horses - it has been known. It might well have just been the sound of a few motor cyclists having fun riding up and down the slopes but it could have been the sound of a gang of chain saw maniacs out to saw off our legs. It might be silly but we would look even sillier with no legs - better safe than sorry. And the consequence of all this was that, when THEY brought our evening buckets along, we were still up in the middle field and THEY moaned at us for being late. Then, when I was waiting to go home, I just couldn't settle to put my head in the car boot (they call it trunk in the US , like the car is an elephant) and eat my treat carrots. Then I was jumpy all the way home and nearly landed on HIS toe once when I started at something HE couldn't see. I tell you something, I was glad to get home to the safety of my stable. Thank goodness Sunday is over for another week.
Monday 17 th January 2005 Treg had another lay in this morning, But, the problem was, he chose to do it just outside of the field shelter where the ground is not very level. He just sat and apparently watched s HE walked up with the breakfast buckets. I say ' apparently ' because it is not all that easy to tell whether there is anyone in at all, just because Treg has his eyes open. While Wicky tucked in to his food, there were some more signs of life although HE tells me it is painful to watch the old boy trying to get a grip on reality when he is just waking up. He appeared to have an idea that he had to do something and then turned his head to watch Wicky eating. One could hear the gears grinding rustily as Treg tried to work out what it was that he had to do next. Finally it came to him that he should get up but as he was laying half way up a hill with his front legs much higher than his rear ones, all he succeeded in doing was to roll over and fall back again. When he had repeated this performance over a period of about a quarter of an hour, each time turning about 20 degrees clockwise as he rolled back, he finally found himself on the level and no one was more surprised than him when, at his next attempt, he found himself on his feet. The trouble was that by this time, Wick had finished his breakfast and so offered to help Treg with his and he had to be put on his head collar and lead into the Throwleigh Road field with the gate firmly shut behind him so Treg could have his late breakfast in peace. Mud, mud, mud - I'm covered in mud, just like a real moorland equine should be. No one can accuse me of being a pampered thoroughbred now. I'm just one of the lads (albeit a female one!) This has come about as a result of two or three factors. First the weather which has, of late, been true Dartmoor . It doesn't so much rain as the world finds itself on the inside of a very wet cloud. Sometimes the wind blows the moisture so that it looks and feels like rain but for most of the time it's like walking about in a cold Turkish steam bath. This of course, over a period of many weeks, leaves the ground nice and soft and mushy, especially where it has been churned up by various sets of equine hooves. Now, when the ground is like this, a girl just cant resist in having a little roll or two and when you try to get up, you just cant help using the side of your face for leverage (ask Treg). And then, of course, when it doesn't work first time, you try levering yourself from the other side (ask Treg again) and this does rather have the effect of a facial that someone has forgotten to take off. The final factor is that SHE has been disinclined to brush it off in the mornings as SHE is still finding it an effort after HER last bout of illness and it doesn't really seem worthwhile to undergo all that pain just to see the mud reappear again that afternoon. So, until both SHE and the weather improve, I'm having a really good time. There has to be some compensation for growing up!
Tuesday 18 th January 2005 An exciting day today. First there was the weather again. This time it was a real mixture. We set of from my stable to walk to Ninefields in nice warm sun. By the time we got to Dry Bridge , the skies were darkening and then, as we started off up the Throwleigh Road , we found ourselves in the middle of a snow blizzard. It didn't last long however and by the time we got to Ninefields it was sunny again. However, breeding animals and then killing them to eat them is also cruel. Saying that they are 'humanely' destroyed is no excuse and probably isn't very true anyway for the bulk of our slaughtered animals. It may be less cruel to put a bolt through an animals head than to chase it and tear it to pieces but the process of breeding, growing, fattening, taking to the abattoir, the waiting with the smell of fear and death all around, that's not so great as things go. It's not as if humans must eat meat to survive. They do it for pleasure. Just like the hunting crowd. Many people live quite well as vegetarians. Meat eaters like it and the price is the slaughter of animals. Maybe we should ban hunting when we ban animal farming?
Wednesday 19 th January 2005 "Ere, Wicky." "Oh, right. It's a Kernow thing. That explains it. Anything can happen there. It's the home of Merlin and pixies and things, isn't it?" "Well yes but this isn't magic. Just a technique of standing very quietly and listening. Anyone can do it with a bit of practice."
Thursday 20 th January 2005 Not one of my better days, that is, until this evening. The day started out with some electric carrots . Now I can't remember if I have ever explained what 'electric There is another factor which can bring about an attack of electric carrots and that's having sharp edges on ones teeth. Every time you go to take a bite of anything, the sharp bit catches inside your cheek and that makes you jump as well. And, if you are not thinking straight, after a night of strong winds for example, the cumulative effect is one of very electric carrots. (I told you it was not a very good day!). The walk down to Ninefields was not my greatest moment either. First, HE started to snip things up while I was having my sugar from the kitchen table (you've seen the pictures). I like this part of my routine but having one's front end inside the kitchen while your back end is unprotected, outside the house, calls for a great deal of trust from a flight animal. What we don't enjoy is a strange sharp noise unexpectedly coming from behind us. I nearly fell in my haste to reverse out of that kitchen as fast as I could. And then, to cap it all, a bunch of suicide leaves hurled themselves at me while I was having my half way break. I tell you, I was greatly relieved to get to Ninefields and the company of my friends. The day turned better then until, about midday , when we were peacefully grazing up the top field, THEY turned up with Phil the vet. I managed to herd old Treg up and get him down to the field shelter (Wick was no problem because he thought it was bucket time come early). The first thing that Phil did was to look Wicky over while he and SHE discussed something about Wicky having (or looking like) some cushions. I didn't really understand it until HE explained to me on the way home that they were talking about an illness called Cushings Disease. Apparently one of the results of having this is that HE will have to follow Wicky around with a bucket hoping he will do a wee. It takes all sorts! Next it was Treg's turn. He had to have his teeth rasped and I will admit it was pretty good about it for someone who hates vets. He did, however, lean his whole weight on HIM while it was being done. And then, surprise, surprise, it was my turn to have my teeth done. Well, I don't know what hurt more, having the rasp touching the sore bit on the inside of my mouth or watching HIM stuff treats down the throats of Treg and Wick while I couldn't have any because I had on the dentistry gag (which holds ones mouth open). All I could do was watch and suffer. However, I do have to admit, eating my supper tonight was a pleasure without the sharp bit hurting. Now, if only they will turn off the wind .
Friday 21 st January 2005 For me, an ordinary day. I gather THEY had a more difficult time as THEY were involved with having one new cooker taken away to be replaced by another - What is interesting is the different tastes in the grass. HE is always pulling me to one side and saying 'how about that grass, Al?' and when I go and smell it, it is terrible. Just because it looks bright and green doesn't mean that it is any good to eat. Often the most delicious stuff is quite poor and uninviting to the eye - to the human eye, that is. We don't rely on sight as much as on scent. We get a sort of first early warning that there might be something worth a nibble and so we move over it and have a scent. Then, if it seems to be what we need that day and that time, a small nibble will let us know if we should go in for a more serious graze. Come to think of it, if you suffer from a lack of scenting apparatus, it probably is the best thing to go and cook everything, after all! "Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain ..." now I'm doing it again. Wicky's taken in again! "The wind was whipping round the tor, as we made our way down to the lower slopes. I say we, that is the herd, with me following as best as I could behind. I had been born in the last of the winter snows and it was now mid April. I didn't know any other kind of weather but wind, rain and cold. Like most of us in the herd, we didn't mind the cold as we had heavy coats and warm bodies. But however thick your coat, it cant stop the rain and hail from stinging your face. We had been grazing on the lee side of the tor, taking what protection we could from the elements but the grazing had run out and our leader, Tavy, had decided we should move on in search of better pickings. I was doing quite well in keeping up when the ground was soft and grassy but I found it hard to move at their speed over the very rocky parts, having to weave round each large obstacle and try to keep my footing on the smaller ones. The lower we got, the more I gained in confidence, once or twice managing to get ahead of my mother and even show off a little. There were a couple of other foals in the herd, two fillies and a colt named Bignoz. I don't think his dam called him that but we foals certainly did. The two fillies were called Holly and Berry , probably due to a certain lack of imagination on the part of their mothers. Me, I wasn't called Wicky then. I wasn't called Flick either. My dam had decided I should have a name to grow into so she called me Mac-a-moir from the old Scots legends (I think she assumed that the 'moir' was Scots for 'moor'). Of course, the other foals just called me Mac but that was Ok as it was easy and not embarrassing. So, as I ran down the hill, I caught a glimpse of Bignoz to my right and I decided to give him a race. I called out to him, something like 'last one down's a donkey' and then we were off. As I said, it was no problem where the ground was free of granite but, of course, that is not so frequent on Dartmoor and soon we were both having to skip and jump our way out of trouble. I have to confess that I wasn't really looking where I was going, for the next thing I knew was a thud and blackness. I don't know how long I had been unconscious but when I woke up there was a whole crowd standing round, looking down at me. Most of the faces I recognised. Bignoz was there. So was my mother and a couple of aunties. My eye, however, was caught by Tavy who was standing in apparent deep conversation with an enormous red cow. She appeared to be standing rather lop sided and her flank was covered in mud and had some rather deep scratches as well. I started to become aware of my own body which was calling out to warn me all was not well. I went to talk to my mother and found I could not get the words out properly. I couldn't see it but Bignoz told me that my face was a mess and that I was bleeding badly from the mouth. He told me that I had run straight into the big red cow and we had both gone down. She was alright apart from a few bruises and the loss of her dignity but she was negotiating some extra grazing rights from Tavy as compensation for her trouble. When we got to our new grazing ground and stopped by a stream, my mother got me to wash my mouth out and it was then that we noticed that I had lost a lot of teeth and that those remaining had become rather crooked. And that's it really. That's the story of how my mouth got into the state it's in today." "Oh, Wicky. What a rotten shame. So you've been like that since you were a little foal. Oh I am sorry. All because that old red cow got into your way." We saw our first primrose today. It's funny after saying only the other day that we hadn't seen any yet. This one, admittedly a poor little thing, is in the bank of our wall on the Throwleigh Road , between our gate and the entrance to the bridle path. HE came up later this morning to take a photo of it and HE found quite a few other plants growing in the bank both sides of the gate, looking very healthy. This made us more aware of the possibility of other flowers and as we looked very carefully on the way home tonight, we found one more single primrose flower in the bank on the Ramsley Common side of the road. Now, when HE had been out taking some photos in the back garden yesterday, HE found some snowdrops out by the side of the pond. This made HIM remember the snowdrops we always see at out second stop up the hill, in a sort of lay-by, by the side of the old Ramsley mine workings. It's funny there because it looks as if some human has been planting bulbs there, We also saw my friend Amber, on the way home tonight. Well, alright, yes, I did say that through gritted teeth. I don't know why but somehow I just don't take to her very much. She has done nothing deliberately to upset me but it is just a load of little things. When we walk past her sometimes and HE makes his horse impressions, she will prick up her ears and answer HIM. Other times, she just looks up as if she pities me for having to walk along with HIM. Now, OK, so I feel the same sometimes, but I'm allowed to, he's my human. But, from her, it's an insult and I'm sure she knows it. Tonight she was standing on the side of the stream next to the road and when we came walking by, she rand up the hill and stuck her head over the fence to greet us. We rubbed faces in a sort of polite way and then HE gave her some mint sweets! Well, HE saw the look I gave HIM and very quickly gave me some too. But really, giving to her before giving to me! What kind of etiquette is that? And then, to crown it all, HE gave her half a carrot! Now, HE has taken recently to giving me an extra half a carrot when we get under Dry Bridge but whenever I ask him for the other half, HE always tells me that there is no more. Now, I always knew that where there is half a carrot there must be the other half. And now HE proved it by giving it to Amber. That was the last straw. I just pulled HIM away from there and I was tight lipped all the way home. Well, I meant to be but I had to open my mouth for my carrot half. But, I tell you, I don't like that mare!
Tuesday 25 th January 2005 I thought I should give you an update on my Candlelight Vigil. We have just filled our first page - no big deal as HE and SHE provided two out of the eight But, unless those people are riders or horse owners, they pass on with a smile and forget all things equine. They are not aware of the other, less pleasant aspect of the horse world. Most people enjoy seeing ponies roaming free on our moorlands and forests. They enjoy reading or watching TV items about the 'drift', the annual rounding up of the herds and the subsequent horse fairs or markets. But, unless you are a 'horse lover', you tend to think that the animals at the markets are going to nice new homes where they will become the loved pet, for some little girl or boy to learn to ride on, living in a nice stable and field and spoiled like Wicky, Treg and I are. People either don't know or shut their eyes to the fact that most of these animals are bought by dealers who load them into trucks to be transported, often via the Republic of Ireland , to Europe to be slaughtered and eaten. To humans that should bring up memories of the slave trade or the Nazi concentration camps. If the people of Europe are used to eating horse flesh, that is their business I suppose. It is not possible to criticise this if you are an eater of beef, lamb, pork or chicken (although these animals cannot claim the close association to humans that horses can). But this is no reason why equines in other countries should be allowed to be transported, in trucks or trains, hundreds of miles to their deaths just to make money for the breeders, dealers and transporters. The breeders will argue that if they cannot sell their animals then they will cease to keep them and people will not be able to see them free ranging in the countryside. So what? Good! Murder should not be the price of a moment's pleasure. If people want to continue to see these free ranging creatures then let them be paid for by humans, not by the suffering of countless slaughtered horses. I'm sorry if today's diary is too solemn but it does no harm to think about things once in a while, even if you disagree with me. On the lighter side, Treg decided to have a late breakfast today but when HE went up above the field shelter to where Treg was laying, HE could see why. There was the most glorious view of the red-orange striped sunrise from there. As usual, HE didn't have HIS camera!
Wednesday 26 th January 2005 "Wicky, Wicky, listen to this. I've had an idea!" "I'm not supposed to say anything, Tregony. I say what I like, not what I'm supposed to say." "Oh, come on Wick. This is serious. I've had a really good idea. Don't you want me to tell you about it?" I'm starting to have second thoughts about Amber. I know I said I didn't really like her, the other day but now, I'm not so sure. She has started coming to her fence to greet us now. OK, I know it's the carrot treat she really comes for but she does always rub faces with me first. Today was an exceptional day as she came up to the fence in the morning, as I was going to Ninefields as well as in the evening when I was coming home. However, the thing that made me really
Friday 28 th January 2005 We walked up the road as normal and I held out not eating anything, no mints, no carrots until at least halfway up to Dry Bridge when HE managed to tempt me with an apple biscuit. I ate one, then two and then had a snatch of carrot. I got through my carrot stops OK and then ate grass from the banks all the way to Ninefields to get rid of the horrid taste of the wormer. When we got there, Treggy had forgiven HER (but not forgotten HIM) and took a few sugar cubes. He then followed HIM up to the field shelter where he got a couple of handfuls of the bird's corn for his breakfast. Back to normal this evening, thank goodness, but it is yet another reason why we never completely put all our trust in humans.
Saturday 29 th January 2005 If I was a character in the 'East Enders' soap, I would have to say of Tregony that 'he does my head in'! And this morning was the worst moment I have had for a very long while. To begin at the beginning. All was normal at first. HE went off with the buckets and I stayed and ate my breakfast, a normal one this time, with no medication or anything to spoil it. HE came back at the normal time and HE leaned over the stable door and told HER, while SHE was giving me a bit of a groom, that Treg had decided not to come down for breakfast today and, as Treg was high up in the middle field, under the second big tree, HE had just left him to wake up and had brought his breakfast home again so that SHE could take it up when She drove up there. Again nothing very odd about that. Treg often decides to have a lay down just when it's time for something to happen. We think it's part of being a cob. So, we set off to walk up the hill to Ninefields and, halfway there, we were passed by what HE calls 'your mum's little green mote mote'. He means her car, of course, but I humour him. We carried on walking but when we got to within sight of the gate, I could see that something was up. Both the car door and the rear were wide open and instead of seeing HER standing with Wick and Treg, giving them treats, SHE was nowhere to be seen. HE led me in and took my head collar off and, as we both looked up, we could see everyone up by the top tree. As HE neared the field shelter, she called to HIM to bring some hay as, SHE said, Treg couldn't get up. I waited while he went into the shelter and untied a hay net and then I ran in front of HIM up the hill and into the middle field, As soon as I got into the field, I could see that something was terribly wrong. Treg was lying flat on his side and SHE and Wicky were standing round him looking very worried. I just flipped. That's it, it thought, he's gone. My dear old friend and companion Tregony has finally dropped dead. I started snorting and ran in a circular route towards them, watching Treg's lifeless form as I ran. I got round to the left of the group and then, still snorting ran straight up to them. Treg still lay there motionless and I ran back to where HE was coming up the hill with the haynet. HE told me not to worry and carried on towards Treg. Then, Treg moved. He sat up and looked around him with such a sad look in his eye you could have cried. HE reached down and gave Treg a stroke and SHE said to put the hay all round Treg's feet. The3n HE undid Treg's coat and took it off so that the straps wouldn't constrain him if he tried to get up again. Finally, after a great deal of trouble and several failed attempts, Treg did manage to stagger to his feet and totter off down the hill a little way. HE went back to get Treg's bucket and Wick and I had treats to keep out of the way. But I never again want to see poor old Treg's look of bewilderment and exhaustion as he tried and failed to get up. Maybe one good thing came of it as SHE put as all under the weigh tape today and as Treg had lost some weight, we all got a supplement of sugar beet in out buckets tonight!
Sunday January 30 th 2005 "Look, I'd only just shut my eyes, when HE turned up. I wasn't trying to be funny, really!"
Monday 31 st January 2005 The month has ended on a good note. Well, two good notes, actually. The morning's breakfast was very satisfying. As Tregony said to me yesterday - 'Strodinary, Alli. I just had to have two sit down strikes and see what an improvement we get in our food. It's only a few days ago when THEY tried to give us that disgusting wormer stuff in our buckets. And now see what we're getting!' And he's right. We now are getting sugar beet in our feed which is not only sweet but also filling. So with a nice full belly I started off to take HIM up to Ninefields this morning. I did get a bit bored when HE stopped after only a few yards to talk to a neighbour about getting my front yard re-laid but as it is in my interest, I waited with patience until HE started off again. Then, as we got to Dry Bridge , HE stopped again. This time it was to talk to Roy (If you remember, Harry's old dad). I started to try to find some more patience from somewhere when I overheard what they were talking about. Apparently SHE had seen Roy riding on a strange grey horse yesterday. I don't mean that there was anything wrong or strange with the horse, just that SHE had not seen it round here before. As soon as I got up to the field, I told the old guys the news. Wicky said he would reserve judgment but Treg got quite excited at the prospect of having a new neighbour. 'When will we see him, Alli?', he wanted to know and I had to tell him we would have to wait and see. Well, Treg got his wish sooner that expected. This afternoon, along came Roy riding on this very handsome, tall grey lad. Not only did he ride along but the next moment, Roy was letting him loose in the field next to ours, on the other side of the bridle path. What a great afternoon we had, running up and down in our respective fields. You should have seen the look on Silver's face when THEY came along this evening with the feed buckets. And things got even better because when SHE took me out of the field, SHE took me round to the bridle path so we could rub faces. After a little while, I gave him a playful snap and made him jump. After all, his is still a baby, really. I might be accused of cradle snatching. I expect we will have many more fun afternoons in the future unless the vet finds something terribly wrong. You see, I couldn't help noticing that, although he is on two weeks probation, he was wearing a brand new rug that Faith had got from the shops this morning! |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Xmas lights going on and off in the mornings and evenings. No more Xmas wreath over my stable door. In a way, I miss them but it is nice to get back to normal again. I've had a change of haylage over the last week but HE tells me that this was not intentional, it's just that the one I have has to be on special order and with all the disruption over Xmas and the New Year, even though THEY ordered it, it didn't come in so THEY had to buy some of the ordinary stuff. Strangely, this stuff which is rye grass and appears to be soaked in some sort of syrupy goo was the cause of my bout of colic earlier. Now, because it is not my normal food, it has become that much more attractive. So much so that now HE has got more of the special order timothy haylage and mixed it in, I ignored that and only finished the ordinary stuff. Well, it keeps THEM on their toes. 
I mentioned the strong wind yesterday, didn't I? Well, I'm afraid I have to report that it nearly killed me last night. After I got back from Ninefields yesterday, the wind just got stringer and noisier so that by the late evening the best I could do was to turn my back on it and try and shut my ears. Then, the next thing I next, a terrible wolf was swept into my stable and started racing round my stable floor, trying to seize my ankles. Step as I might to get out of it's way, it just followed me round and around. By the time THEY came to do late stables, I was exhausted and terrified. At last HE came in and found a piece of white plastic bag lying in the corner of the stable. I will admit that after HE had taken it out, the wolf seemed to have gone as well but, as one can't be too careful, I was not going to turn my face to the door to get my pieces of swede from HER. Instead, SHE had to come into the stable and even then I would only snatch them from her hand. She asked HIM to fix the top part onto my stable door but HE couldn't make it fit. HE found that HE had fixed some bits of wood onto the sides of the door to fix a fly screen earlier in the summer and these were getting in the way. HE went to get a screwdriver to remove them but, after that, the top door still wouldn't fit on so in the end HE had to give up and leave the top open. 
passed on to pastures new. Then you look up and he is sitting up, apparently taking in all that is happening around him. Now, whilst the first thought might be erroneous, in that he has not passed away just passed into a deep satisfying sleep, I am afraid the second thought is erroneous also. Far from surveying the prospects from a somnolent Treg, his body may be sitting up, his eyes may appear open but I am afraid the rest (what there is of it) is still completely shut down. Usually, when HE sees old Treg like this, HE just leaves him alone, at first, while HE goes and sees to Wicky's needs (and also does things that don't have to do with eating). Then, when that is finished, HE often walks over to Tregony and gives him the carrot that he normally gets at the waiting point near the stream. Now this is a good example of Treg operating on two quite different levels. When the carrot is offered, his head goes forward and his jaw opens, the carrot goes in and Treg's mouth shuts round it. However, his mind is still far away in those dark recesses that contain his dreams and, if you were to ask him some time later how the carrot tasted, he would be sure to reply 'what carrot?' 
behind the house that had been blown down with its trunk split in half. Now, it's alright for them, fast asleep in their house behind two foot thick granite walls but I've only got a thin wooden stable between me and the elements. They wouldn't hear a thing whereas I could hear the tree's trunk first creaking and groaning, then splitting and finally come crashing down with no idea what it was because I can't see out onto the back garden. HIS only concern was that it was a pity it wasn't the bigger tree next to this one that keeps most of the light out of the back garden. 'What an improvement it would be if that one came down' HE said wistfully. 'And what a crash that would make when it came down through my stable roof', I thought. HIS trouble is that HE doesn't think things through. 
"What's that Treg? Two old rabbits? I can't see anyone. Where d'you mean?" 
carrots' are. Imagine if you were locked in a stable, all night, with the wind getting fresher and fresher until all manner of things, that you can't see, start jumping up and banging on the stable sides and then the wind gets extremely strong and you are surrounded by things flying about that you can see (plastic bags, tree branches, dustbin lids, etc.) and startled by unfamiliar, loud sounds. After a while, this works on the nerves of even a placid horse like me, and you start getting a bit edgy. Then, when you go to take a bite of hay from the hay rack and the wire twangs back after you pull some haylage out or, if you are offered a carrot and just as you take a bite, a wolf rushes past the street outside, well, then it really makes you jump. So, you get very wary about the next bite and tend to make a grab, in case you might have to make a run for it. 
don't ask, it is a long and sorry story. Humans bring it on themselves, they really do. I mean, who needs a cooker? What's wrong with grass (in season) and hay or haylage? Can you imagine what that would turn out like if you cooked it? No wonder they need plates. Anyway, what else can I tell you? Doesn't January go on and on? Very dreary, not even a hint to make you think that spring might be around the corner. I've been looking out for the primrose plants along the hedgerows as I walk up to Ninefields. I know it is far too early for the flowers although HE has some in his front garden but I suspect that they are not truly the 'wild' variety - Primula Vulgaris. Now, aren't I posh? Actually I just heard HIM say it and I thought that I must remember to get that in the diary somewhere. Nothing like a French horse who can talk Latin, eh? There are some signs of the plants. I suspect that they are there most of the time, it is just that the grass and weeds grow over them until they get big enough to push through and be seen. There's really not much flower colour around at all at present. There's the gorse, of course; bright yellow straggling over the hilly places, a few small weeds and that's all. 
maybe in memory of some favourite pet (there used to be a place in the forest where THEY used to live, where a friend had buried a pet dog and had planted nearly a hundred daffodils). This place, it's first the snowdrops and then daffodils. There is a large bunch of snowdrops on the other side of the road, as well. It is hard to know if they have been transplanted by the birds or if humans planted these as well. Whatever, it is a lovely sight in the dull winter days. So, having remembered them, HE made a special point of looking for them on the way home tonight, and sure enough, they were there! Now, why didn't we notice them this morning? The bunch on the other side of the road are still very slim white pencil like closed buds but the flowers on our stopping place side are already out. Probably it's because they are in among the undergrowth and are more protected from the elements which is also why we didn't notice them until we really looked for them. 
contributions. Still, it's a start. Maybe it will take off, maybe not. Whichever way, it's worth doing to raise people awareness of what goes on. Humans are very complex things. In all my dealings with them, I have found nearly all are rather nice and have a special soft spot for horses. I expect it is due to the very long association man and horse have had over the centuries. It is surprising to think that it is only about a hundred years since the horse was mans main means of carriage and transport and really only fifty odd years since the tradesman's horse was seen round our streets bringing our bread, milk, beer and other commodities to our doorsteps. Since that time our role has changed from one of commercial service to that of outdoor leisure and pleasure. Even those who do not own a horse or ride for pleasure still enjoy seeing us in the fields or riding around the streets. It seems to bring out some deep down good feelings, helping to reduce the stress of modern human existence. 
"Well, one like Alli's but with carrots. I mean, we all like carrots, don't we. We could get all the horses in the world to sign up. Everyone likes carrots. Even the bunnies would join us, wouldn't they?" 
pleased with her tonight was that, when she came to the fence and HE offered her a carrot she wouldn't take it until HE gave me one first. Now, that's what I call manners. I don't know if humans realise how important the so called 'pecking order' is to us animals. And, it's not so much to do with pride as with security. If you know who ranks above who, it takes away all uncertainty and decisions can be made with the utmost swiftness which, for a prey animal, is essential to survival. Just imagine if we were faced with a tiger and spent our time saying 'oh no dear, after you. I insist. Oh, really, well alright then, maybe just this once' and so on. There would be a lot less horses in the world, I'm sure. Anyway, I'm holding my opinion on Amber for now and we'll see how things work out. 
