Thursday, 29 November 2007
Tuesday, 27 November 2007
Cefyn (pronounced ‘Kevin’) comes from the Welsh words Ceffyl (horse) and Assyn (Donkey). His main job is as a companion and lawn mower but we will perhaps be breaking him for our children to ride – if they are not too embarrassed!
Monday, 26 November 2007
Sunday, 25 November 2007
Saturday, 24 November 2007
First and foremost we have re-introduced Widget to harness, I bought a set of harness for her and after lots of head scratching and looking in books we got the harness on. I did some driving years ago but I can’t say it was much use as I didn’t remember much. Widge stood patiently for all the fiddling with the harness with the air of a professional having to put up with amateurs. She took the blinkered bridle with no trouble and I was convinced that she must have done it before to be so laid back about it, so after a few trial runs we got going . And surprise surprise she turns out to be a laid back driving mule!! Is there nothing this mule can’t do we ask ourselves…. Well actually standing still doesn’t come easily to her so there is something to work on.
We had a lot of plans laid out for the summer and we were eagerly planning a trip to the New Forest when disaster struck and the pony’s jockey Brenda was struck down with illness and had to undergo major abdominal surgery. It was of course a bitter blow for us all as it has wiped out nearly 3 months of activities. I was reluctant to let Widgets fitness slip so I took to riding her and leading Autumn when I could to keep them both ticking over. Widge didn’t appear to mind towing a small chestnut pony behind her around the village but some people did point and stare at the ‘odd couple’.
However after consultation with my mother who lives up near Chippenham we managed to organise a weekend away staying with mum and going on the Miserden Fun ride with a friends daughter and her very good pony. In hindsight I should have taken the pony with me as company but I sadly underestimated the power of separation anxiety that Widget would feel. We arrived in the beautiful yard where the friends lived and Widge was put in a paddock next to another horse. I expected her to take it all in her usual accepting stride but she didn’t settle at all and bearing in mind that the fencing must have been over 5ft and very sturdy, I was horrified to see her sizing it up and making little runs at it.
Mum and I watched her for a while trying to decide what would be best to do, we were sure that she would eventually try to jump out and the friend wasn’t keen on letting a mad mule run with any of her horses so we decided to take her back to mum’s yard. There was a problem though in the form of mums highly strung pony broodmare and last years gelding. Nevertheless we boxed a reluctant mule and took her to the yard. The pony mare was shouting madly as the trailer came down the drive and was in the yard waiting to see who was in the box before we even got there. The look of complete horror on her beautifully well bred face when she saw the lovely banner-like ears of Widge spoke volumes and we unboxed and let them meet over the gate. A tense second passed while they sniffed then the mare exploded into the most violent outburst I have ever seen. She was screaming obscenities at my poor girl and striking out, then she reared high and struck over the gate at Widget. She caught her leg on the gate and went crashing to the floor, the poor silly old thing. However we used the momentary pause in the outburst to get Widge into a stable before the mare was on her feet shouting at the top of her voice. Then to add insult to injury the mare backed up to the door and gave it such a kick it punched a hole in the wood. All this time the yearling was at the back of the yard with his eyes popping out at Auntie Izzy gone mad, apparently unable to believe his eyes. Widget was calling to them every time they got more then five foot away and straining at the door. She was saying something about just wanting to be loved but we doubted that she was in line for anything like that.
Mum and I had a very sleepless night and I crept out several times to see if they were settling. By the morning all was quiet and Izzy had decided that all the excitement was enough to bring her into season, and maybe this odd creature was actually some sort of new stallion. After some debating we turned them out together and they were fine.
The day of the fun ride dawned and we boxed up, not with much co-operation on Widge’s behalf it has to be said, and arrived in the beautiful rolling countryside of Miserden. As I opened the top door Widgets head appeared and her ears were nearly falling off they were so far forward. She told me that even though she couldn’t see them she KNEW hounds were close, and looked almost excited when we led her out. Apparently it occurred to her early on that it was a fun ride not hunting as she fell asleep in the sunshine within a few minutes. I think that as she has been dragged around the countryside a lot in the last 12 months she must be used to people staring at her as she sighed heavily as people stopped to have a look. Anyway the ride itself was wonderful and out of the 70 jumps (yes that’s right 70 jumps!) we did about 55 which must be good going in anybody’s book. The best bit was when we stopped for refreshments along the way, a nice old chap came over and patted her and then he got a misty look in his eye and put his hand on her nose and said softly ‘we won the war on the back of these animals’ Widget was gazing back at him with that unfathomable expression of wisdom that she has and I felt strangely touched to witness it. The moment passed and he told us that we could go down the hill and up through the woods or we could jump the stone wall behind him to miss it out. I was prepared to go down the hill but when he added that not many people had fancied the wall, the gauntlet was well and truly thrown down! I suppose it was about 2’6” but lower this side and feeling all eyes on us Maddie and I cantered towards the wall, Maddie and her pony Arthur sailed over like pros and Widge and I followed suit. It was hard to resist the temptation to turn around and wave at the onlookers.
So that was a lovely weekend away.
Brenda started riding again and after the slow build up as she healed we were out and about again, we are still taking it easy but we did go to our riding club show a few weekends ago. We dragged the animals out of the field and I groomed and plaited her, trimmed her ears and oiled her hooves and generally made her as beautiful as she could be. She didn’t entirely approve of the plaiting bit, she was suspicious that something new was happening and she said that she wasn’t sure if she was going to like it if it meant looking pleasant all day. We arrived at the show in plenty of time, and most of it was taken up with the usual bombardment of fascinated people. Even though I did hear a child cry out ‘look mummy it’s a donkey’. Brenda an I both entered for the Prettiest Mare class so in we went with 10 others, we circled round the ring and I kept up a steady stream of muttered bribes to Widge to encourage pricked ears. I though she looked like a million dollars so you can imagine my outrage when Brenda and Autumn were called out 2nd and we only just scraped a rosette in 6th place. However I didn’t think I should argue as I’m not convinced that she should have been in a mares class in the first place.
We did meet a very nice chap in a wheelchair who had suffered a stroke but was previously in the England Tentpegging team. He wheeled himself over and wanted to pat Widget who was engrossed in watching the dog show, but when she realised her presence was required she very gently lowered her head into the chaps lap so he could stroke her. I am sure that most animals know when someone is vulnerable and when caution and tenderness is required. All this however went out the window when Autumn went into the veterans class. For almost twenty minutes nothing could be heard throughout the showground because some long eared prat was shouting at the top of her voice for her beloved chestnut mare to come back to her. Needless to say it was highly embarrassing and once the mare did come back Widget feigned indifference. Still we redeemed ourselves by jumping two clear rounds in the fun jumping.
Widget is about to become immortalised in bronze as the well known artist Susie Whitcombe flew down in early May to take photos and sketches of her to model her next bronze on. Susie was really lovely and has such a wonderful ability to capture animals on canvas and in clay. Widge was clearly unaware of what an honour it was as she complained about me leading her about for no good reason but was obliging enough to prick her ears and did take an interest in the sketch pad Susie had. So we will wait and see what comes of this but I am thrilled that my very special mule will always be remembered in bronze.
So I think that this about brings us up to date with what is happening in our little yard, an unlikely hotbed of international mule relations!
Well winter here in Somerset has been pretty wet but thanks to the positioning of our fields we have managed to escape the hock deep mud that seems to plague other parts of the world. We have kept ours turned out all winter so far with only the lameness episode confining them to the yard so far.
Since the last instalment of the incredible magic go anywhere do anything mule (this is more or less how my friends and family refer to her as I constantly tell everyone how wonderful she is) we have been out and about surprising more horses and people. So after a few weeks rest while she was lame she needed to be brought up to speed before I took her hunting so another busy afternoon clipping followed, honestly she did need it, then she was once again shining and ready to go. This session clipping went even better then the first as she knew what was going to happen and just stood and let me take my time. I even ran the clippers down the length of her ears and clipped her head out completely this time. My friend with the pony wanted her clipped a bit more as she was sweating every time we went out so I duly oiled the clippers and did a blanket clip.
I was itching to get out and do something fun as winter road riding does get rather tedious so we decided to load the horses up and go out to Brean to ride on the beach. Having endured a lecture from husband on the dangers of the mud, the tide, the other beach users, the possibility of being blown to France we loaded up and away we went. All I can say is wow, the beach was so long it just disappeared into the distance and barely anyone in sight. We parked in the car park, tacked up and road down towards the sand, we had to ride down a steep jetty to get to the sand. All was going well but then both animals refused to step onto the sand. Widget said that it might be anything and how could se possibly know if she would sink and never be seen again, and Autumn said that is Widge didn’t like it then there was no way she was going to risk her life. We went sideways and backwards then forwards and after a good amount of coxing Widget shut her eyes and tentatively put a hoof on the sand. Finding that it didn’t in fact give way or suck her under she walked on as if she had never harboured any suspicions about it. It was a lovely ride up the beach, we trotted and cantered and generally had a lovely time. Now Brenda had never galloped before and I saw this as a perfect opportunity to initiate her to the noble sport of trying to hang on while the wind tries to tear you off the back of your animal. So when we got to the far end of the beach, bearing in mind that it is 3 miles long, we turned and I told her just to grab a handful of mane and let the pony do her thing. We cantered and then I shouted to her to give Autumn her head and kick on. Autumn is a game little pony and possibly the fastest thing on four legs so when Brenda did as she was told the pony shifted effortlessly into top gear and all I saw and heard was a round chestnut backside kicking sand in our faces and a squeal of excitement from Brenda. Widge galloped after them but no matter how much I love her she will never be very fast and we quickly fell behind. Eventually we caught up with Brenda and Autumn who had thoroughly enjoyed themselves and made our way with a couple more gallops back to the box.
A few weeks before Christmas I decided that I had no excuse to put off taking her out hunting so I duly rang the secretary of the Taunton Vale hounds and asked if I could join them for a day. I got her in the night before and groomed her until she was spotless and then settled down for a restless night. Husband was grumbling because I couldn’t sleep for excitement and apprehension but the most beautiful day dawned and I was up and about getting her fed and generally mucking about. We were a bit late getting to the meet as for all her lovely qualities she can sometimes be reluctant to box, especially when she is suspicious about being tacked up and going into the trailer alone. The pony didn’t help by insisting on calling her every five seconds but she did go up with a bit of persuasion and we were off. I rolled up to the meet to find the usual assortment of large and beautiful horses as well as a few smart cobs and unruly ponies. We saw the quarry in the form of a rider with a sock dangling off the end of a rope disappearing into the distance and after a short break the Huntsman moved off and cast hounds in the first field. I has been pretty well hidden just outside of the farm yard talking to a nice girl on a big chestnut, Widge had been dozing in the sun not really bothering about much, however when we moved off people suddenly noticed that there was an alien in their midst and I got mobbed by interested followers. My wonderful mule took it all in her stride and didn’t even worry when hounds came streaming around her legs. She was willing to keep up but said that she saw very little point in the whole thing. One of the horses was rapidly obsessed with her and kept being silly when he lost sight of her and calling. I don’t think that any of the horses or people were anything other then interested and certainly none of them had a strong aversion to her.
In all honesty we didn’t do much that day, the ground was very wet and hounds kept loosing the trail and getting confused. I think the highlight was when we checked in a farmyard and were standing about, Widget decided that is was far to quiet so she brayed at the top of her voice. As the hideous noise died away there was shocked silence followed by peals of laughter by everyone in earshot. Taking this a request for an encore she proceeded to bray again.
I did manage to get out again before Christmas but it was so foggy we just loaded back up and went home again. I went out with the Taunton Vale again in late January and this time we had a lovely day. She was very sensible at the meet and drifted in and out of sleep but was polite when a nice gentleman on an old grey horse came to say hello.
The first tricky bit we came to was a stream at the bottom of a steep field but with catlike agility (alright maybe not catlike but not too far off) she jumped over and away we went up the other side of the hill. We had a lovely day and even though we missed the first few fences we were still up with the rest of the field. We went down though a quarry and up the steep other side to a nasty rail with a ditchy thing in front, so me and another girl with a bit thoroughbred horse slipped out of the wood the further down and round the outside of the wood to hopefully catch up. We could see them going off across the fields the other side of the hedge but the only way to follow was over a set of narrow rails around 2’6”. We decided to go over so the girl put her horse at the rails where it promptly refused. I trotted Widge towards them and she popped over obediently, so I waited on the other side for the girl to join me. But this horse wasn’t having any of it and after countless attempts I suggested that maybe I should just jump back and we would try to find another way round. So, silently grateful of the work that I we put into our jumping in the summer, we hopped back across and cantered back to the woods. Fate was against us though as we didn’t find a way round or meet up with hounds again but I went away thrilled that she had behaved well and jumped nicely.
So she has another string to her bow and is a mannerly and sensible hunter. I did get a nice exercise trap from husband for Christmas so the next thing on my list is to introduce her to the joys of harness. I know she has done some harness work but quite what and when I am not sure.
Memoirs of a mule
This summer has brought us lots of pleasure, we have been out and about doing fun rides and going places. Widget has taken everything in her stride and has been much admired. Her jumping is coming on and we did do some of the jumps on the rides. Not with any real style but we did get over.
I thought it was about time to hire a course to have a practice on so in October we hired Stockland Lovall cross country course. Mum came with us as the instructress and we set out towards the 100 odd jumps to go round. Widge saw what was coming before Autumn did and her pace slackened off, she was clearly unimpressed by the course. We got off to a good start over the mini section and then went on to have a fabulous day, Widge ended up leading over all sorts of jumps, we did tyres and ditches, and water. Then we did steps and coffins and gates. She took to it with a willing attitude and only stopped when it was me who was thinking ‘urgh this is a horrible fence!’ we noticed that a small crowd had gathered a field away, undoubtedly thrilled by the quality of horsemanship on the course, I suppose it may have been they had never seen a mule on the course but I like to think it was the former.
I realised summer had really gone when stripped off Widgets lightweight rug and suddenly found that she had grown a winter coat seemingly overnight. Now I must explain that I am somewhat of a rug fetishist and take enormous pleasure in rugging horses and indeed mules up to their eyeballs.
It is not unknown for the cry to go up in my household of ‘ oh no, not another blasted rug’ from a frustrated husband. When I lost my old horse he had somewhere in the region of 10-12 rugs. One for all occasions I liked to think. But as he was a good deal bigger then Widge and sadly I have had to start my collecting all over again. The main up side is that she takes the same size as the pony so at least they have interchangeable wardrobes. Lately I have been favouring a good think combo style, and lie in bed safe in the knowledge that she is warm all over.
However this hair development also allowed me to indulge in another favourite winter pastime, clipping.
I did the pony first, just a chaser for her as she is a bit old now and doesn’t do much work. Then I turned my attention to my mule. Now during the summer I had been running the clippers closer and closer until she was happy to have them all over her, and even let me put them on her ears. So after a night in the dry I tied her up and got the clippers. She watched me with the air of an animal who knows that this is not a drill, one ear was back but she stood still while hair started to fall away from her body. Now I had decided to do a high blanket clip as I was intending to do some work this winter and was going to take her our hunting. But I blame the hair in my eyes, I can’t accuse her of moving as she didn’t move a muscle during the whole process, but my lines went horribly wrong and I ended up with a hunter clip.
Widget was shocked into silence I think at the outrage of being naked, but I told her all the best mules were doing it. I don’t think she believed me as a long stony glare was all I got. However I was pleased as she was shining like a vision of beauty. Incidentally this is how I described her to hubby when I came in but all I got were gales of laughter, and him begging me to stop making such funny jokes.
I was pleased to see that mine were the first horses in the village to be clipped as we rode out, Widget being an amiable sort of person took her new look with good grace after getting over the shock and was pretty frisky that day.
But we were not able to enjoy it for long as she went lame a few weeks after. I was so surprised to find her unlevel I stood for ages just looking at her and wondering how this had happened. After a few lusty sighs and resting of foot I called the farrier out who diagnosed a bruise on her sole and told me to rest it. So out she went (rugged up well of course!). I checked on her everyday, and so did Brenda my pony’s jockey. But a week later we went to get them in and to my horror she was hopping on three legs. I was astonished that she could have gotten so bad overnight, having never had lameness in any of my horses before. And feeling like the worst mother in the world I made her walk down the road back to the yard. Leaving Brenda to see to the horses I rushed in and called the vet out. It was pitiful to see my beloved mule limping dejectedly around, if anyone has had a lame animal you know how it feels, I wanted to tell her to stop walking about.
So Brenda and I waited about for the vet to arrive, and were chatting when I saw a car drive past.
‘that’s the vet just missed us’ I told Brenda, she asked how I could tell and I struggled to explain that a vets car just has a certain look about it. Usually a nondescript estate, bit muddy and weighed down a bit on the back, just a vets car.
After a minute or two the vet came back and remarked on seeing Widge that he hadn’t seen a mule for over twenty years. He dug about in her foot and extracted some gravel from the wall of her hoof. Then he said that she probably had an infection and to give her antibiotics and let the pus ‘work it’s way out’ he left and I decided after several conversations that I wasn’t altogether happy with the visit but I would see how we went. Four days of antibiotics later she was still unhappy in her foot. I called the farrier again and he came out the next day. I tied her up and the farrier, after bemoaning the butchery the vet called cleaning the feet out, he set to work looking for the sore site. Her foot had quite a lot of heat in it and was testing sore all across her sole. Out came the knife and he started cutting, tense seconds ticked by as he tapped and cut and scraped. Once he thought he has found a black spot that marked the infection but it turned out to be a black spot and nothing sinister. The silence was broken only by the grunts and huffs of the farrier, the atmosphere was thick with expectation then all of a sudden Matthew shouted ‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it!!!’
I have never been so relieved to see pus in all my life. She had picked up something very sharp and very thin in her toe which had introduced an infection. I could almost see the relief in her face as the pus drained out and left her feeling so much better. The infection had been behind her sole and apparently a new sole will grow behind the old one and replace it in the future. We decided that the best thing to do was to leave the hole open for a bit to let the pus drain away, and to soak it in salt water everyday and poultice it for two days. However Widget had different ideas. I was very organised and got the hot water, Animalintex, bandages, tape and thick plastic all ready, tied her up and soaked the foot. Then lifting her hoof out of the water I put the square of poultice on, I turned to get the bandage and she whipped her head down grabbed the poultice and threw it across the yard and snatched her foot away and plonked it into a puddle of dirty water before I even knew what happened. Over the next few days she doggedly removed all bandaging and protective footwear that I put on. Most didn’t last the night. Then my mum hit on putting Vaseline soaked cotton wool on the hole to keep it from getting dirty. I duly followed the advice which worked well. My farming neighbour appeared with a Shoof, a plastic hoof cover that ties up over the coronet band. Overjoyed with this I put it on and turned her out as she was getting very bored indeed with being in. Well the Shoof lasted about 20mins, before it was sent flying across the field.
I know she was grinning as she disappeared round the corner.
However despite her best efforts to evade having her hoof treated she came sound and Matthew and I decided to put front shoes on to keep the hole covered and reduce the risk of getting rubbish up there again.
I was prepared for her to be silly about having red hot strips of iron pressed against her foot but to my surprise and delight she took it all in her stride, all she required was a handful of feed and my armpit to tuck her nose under.
So that brings us up to date really, she is basically sound but I have to keep the shoe clean or bits of dirt wedge underneath where the hole is, and has become rather noisy on the road, no more sneaking up on unsuspecting OAP’s. During the month that she was off work her coat has grown enough to warrant another clip, and I am planning to take her out hunting soon. Goodness only knows what the nice well bred horses will think of her, especially as she is bound to shout a bit. But I am looking forward to finding out!!!!
Friday, 23 November 2007
I have always been interested in mules but had never really given them a serious thought before, I had never met one and in truth never expected to do so. However last June just before my first son was born I unexpectedly lost my old and beloved horse. Suddenly I found myself without anything except my old chestnut broodmare too keep me company. It wasn’t until November that I really began to miss having a riding horse around so I turned my attention to finding something good in traffic, box, clip, to handle and something that I could take out anywhere and know it would be sane and sensible. I did rather think this was a lot to ask but it was worth a shot. Well the first thing I realised very quickly was that a good happy hacker was an awful lot of money!! Where was I when the horse market boomed?! Whilst trawling through the internet I found an article about mules, I read it with interest and the idea was born that I may have just found the ideal animal for me. I got in contact with the British Mule Society and introduced myself and started looking for my first mule.
Then on day in late April I got an e-mail from Ann Dyer with some details of a 15hh mule for sale about 2 hours drive away. I thought that I might as well go and have a look ‘just so that I can have a look at a real life mule, oh but maybe I ought to take the trailer, just in case..’ So a friend and I drove up to see this mule of which I knew nothing about. After getting horribly lost a few times (never ask a non-driver to navigate) we eventually got there. My first impression of Widget was that here was the poorest, most unfriendly animal I had seen in a very long time.
What made me buy her I can’t say, she certainly made no effort to impress but there was something I liked, under the thin nearly bald exterior. So I paid the money, got her passport and loaded her into the trailer. She loaded and travelled well, and after what seemed like hours she arrived in my yard.
I put her out into our orchard next to the old brood mare Autumn, who being a very accepting little mare, just did the cursory hellos and went back to grazing. After I left I had two phone calls from concerned people in the houses next to the orchard who told me that my new funny looking horse was trying to break down the fence in between her and Autumn, by the time I got up there ( about 5 mins!) she had broken through and was grazing contently by Autumn. I did wonder what I had gotten myself into as I put antiseptic cream onto the cuts and scratches that pushing through barbed wire fences tends to cause. I had a really good look over her and discovered that ,apart from being able to feel every rib and her breast bone sticking out about three inches, she had lice everywhere and then I found an abscess on her dock which needed quite a lot of attention. Her off hind had quite a large cavity where she has had some White Line Disease but that is well on the mend now. I also wormed her with Lung worm specific wormer as she had a suspicious cough, and since the worming she hasn’t coughed once.
‘well of course you’ll never teach THAT any manners’ or ‘ what on earth did you buy such a ugly thing for’ all the way to people telling me how beautiful she is and how much they like mules. The main thing people asked was can you ride them? I did find it difficult not to be sarcastic as most people asked this question whilst I was sitting on her! I was riding her one day when someone, looking rather embarrassed confessed that she didn’t realise I had been talking about a real mule, she thought I was just being rude about my new horse! I have since taken her on fun rides where you get lots of funny looks and double takes, but the first one on the Quantocks she was met at the end by a crowd of people who had heard that there was a mule going round and wanted to have a look! I did feel rather like a celebrity, and Widget stood and let herself be admired while she drank orange squash from my cup
Thursday, 22 November 2007
So what do you have - a Mule? Or a Hinny?
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
To quote from the Mossburn website (where Sililia can be sponsored)
As a mule her mother was a pony and her father a donkey. Sililia is much smaller than most mules being only about 12 hands high and is a wonderful dark brown chocolate colour. Sililia was about 9 years old when she arrived at Mossburn on the 27th of April 2002 with an elderly grey mare called Tanya. Their owner had sold his house and land and they were to be shot as he had nowhere else to put them. Fortunately for the pair somebody stepped in and asked if the animals could be saved if a home could be found, and that is how they came to be here.
We were told that Sililia had been broken in but this was patently untrue. She was very nervous on arrival here and it took a month before we could halter her. As she has gained confidence she has become inquisitive and enjoys being led around, looking at things and also being groomed. She has accepted a rider and goes out for hacks locally - she even assisted with 'pony rides' at a recent open day! She can still be difficult if she chooses - sometimes when being led she will stop dead and refuse to move (usually in the middle of a road!) - the saying "Stubborn as a mule" was not coined in jest!Sililia is not keen on men, which does not make the farrier's job any easier, but she is improving in confidence all the time and becoming much easier to handle all round.
Well I have now owned Treacle over a year so I thought I’d tell you our story so far….
In June 2005 we decided to visit Appleby fair to buy a nice quiet cob for my boyfriend’s dad (Peter) to learn to ride on. After a fairly fruitless search Mark my boyfriend muttered the now fateful words “Have you seen those ears?” I think now he wishes he has quietly led me away in the opposite direction!!! It was too late though and I shot through the crowd to meet a fully clipped, nearly black mule standing around 14hh. Despite having just moved house, being currently unemployed with a broken arm and owning a perfectly good riding horse I asked “How much?” Well we all nearly choked at the figure mentioned but it was too late I grovelled and begged for the men to lend me the money, haggled a little and Treacle was mine (well naturally she was called Muffin at the time!!!). Mark said he’d paid less money for winning racehorses and it took me ten months to finally pay off the “Great Mule Debt.” Peter finally got his nice quiet cob six months later; they are made for each other and have recently been to their first show – must have been fate!!!! I have since met several people who had seen Treacle, intended to buy her and had just gone to “find hubby/get the cash/ arrange transport” and returned to find her gone. I don’t hang about!!!
Well we were told at Appleby that Treacle drove but we took it on trust as there was no cart or harness available. (Though to be fair we were told she didn’t ride and she had a lot of miles on her shoes!!) Well Treacle drives beautifully and Mark broke her to ride for me (His business is breaking in and re-schooling difficult horses – this was his first mule though!). We haven’t done much this year but we decided that an outing to our local show was in order last month. Permission was asked for to enter her in the “Novice horse, pony (and now mule) class in hand” and granted! So her mane was hogged, she had her first bath, and walked in to the trailer like a pro. Treacle was in her element, meeting her fans, fluttering her eyelashes, and generally sashaying round the showground. Well what can I say? One very brave judge later and a red rosette pinned under the long ears. The second and third placed competitors were not amused!!!! We were asked to bring her back next year but I think escaping alive this year was lucky and we may have retired from the show ring!!
Are we mule people? Well No! She is treated just like the thoroughbreds here, lives in a pen with my neurotic ex racer. She loves racehorse mix and has the run of twenty acres of good grazing. She truly believes herself to be a racehorse and is probably expecting a trip to Ascot or Cheltenham next year. Scarily when the vet was last out to vaccinate he asked “Which one is the mule?” (looking at a pen of five racehorses and Treacle) er…. that will be the one with the long ears!!!!
Thanks to Jenny Williams my business is now named after Treacle – so if you see a little white van around your area with “Only Mules and Horses – Mobile Tack Shop,” give us a wave. There is only one small flaw in this…. Treacle is thought by many to be a hinny… However I’d already named her “Mule of Kintyre” on her passport, so she will always be THE MULE around here!!! (Mark often adds a rude word in the middle, but we know he loves her really!)
We are getting used to “mule humour” – this is a typical example! One morning Mark was turning out my two, it was a filthy day, heavy rain, mud over the wellies, cold, truly miserable. He had on his drizabone and akubra hat and goes into the first pen. “Morning” says Quin my TB, bouncing enthusiastically, keen to get out. “Arghhhhhhh” says muley, flattening herself against the wall “you’re wearing a HAT.” Mark casually sneaks up on her but she’s having none of it. Mark takes off his hat and looks for a safe place for it while he gets a rope on Treacle. Quin’s head! As Mark is no longer wearing his hat, mule condescends to having a rope around her neck and allows Mark to lead her to the gate, when out of the corner of her eye she spots the now very fashionable Quin. “ARGHHHHHHH – Quin’s wearing a hat” says muley now truly terrified (yeah right!) and off she goes, barging through Quin, Mark valiantly water skiing behind her…. I think I heard the swearing twenty miles away…. But he loves her really!
She merrily flattens electric fencing, leaps gates if she wants to be elsewhere and yet despite some amazing offers I think she’s here to stay!! So hopefully this will be part one of the treacle story and if I can lay hands on enough stirrup cup, Part two will be “Mule goes hunting!