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Thu, Jan 17th - 9:55AM

Violence amongst riders.

 What has the world come to? We are dealing with (allegedly) mature animal loving humans who threaten each other with their riding whips. This is the third incident in the last couple of years. All instigators involved have been asked to remove their horse from our stables, as I will not tolerate such behaviour. Sadly, the trigger is always some stupid small issue. Catweazle has the first client we encountered who obviously thought it was his right to “discipline” and “educate” others by threatening to hit them, intimidate the kids, insult others or ride into their lunging rein when he felt disturbed. After being kicked out by several stables in the neighbourhood, he had spent a record three years with us. After going for the kids of another client, enough was enough, and we asked him to leave. In the meantime he has been “removed” from the next stable for threatening the lads cleaning the stables.

The kids he had threatened were the offspring of a former prostitute who hitherto had given little cause for complaint, other than malicious gossip. But she must have been taking lessons from Catwealze.

After getting into a discussion with another girl about a nail polish – of all things – she flipped and started to wave the whip at the girl. The tart was sitting on her horse at the time, the other lass was standing in front of her. Thereafter the tart demanded that tother lass be “kicked out” as she being the client was in the right. Well, bye bye, then.

Today two riding instructors, the only riders in the arena at the time, took the example to the extreme. While one was putting the rug on her horse, the other rode into her horse. Again a whip was used to intimidate the person on the ground. These were two 50+ Grand Prix Dressage riders, it’s becoming the popular thing for riders to resort to the behaviour of football hooligans.


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Sun, Jan 13th - 6:03AM

The Old Goat Strikes Again

Our yard is square and fairly large, well, large enough for tractors, combine harvesters and other machinery to move around quite easily. In the middle sits a fifty year old walnut tree, which occasionally receives a bit of a beating when large vehicles move underneath and the driver isn’t paying attention to the height of his machine. So the tree looses some branches every now and then. So what, they’ll grow back.

It’s a pity one of our walls of the outdoor building that house our machinery won’t grow back. It now has a dirty great gaping hole of about 3 feet length by 1 ½ foot width. The tractor and with a multi furrow plough attached were parked under the roof, we like to keep our machines out of the rain, muck, and bullets. Apart from that, the sodding tractor won’t start when it’s cold. Winter in Germany is usually cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey.

Anyway the old goat decides it’s thawed enough to out and annoy the locals walking their dogs, kids, husbands and grandmothers. He usually drives up behind them and then puts his foot down. It’s not the speed that gets them but all the muck and dirt goes flying off the tractor wheels, which are quite large. So that’s a lot of dirt.

His day out ploughing started encouragingly enough when he managed to start the tractor, lift a 9 foot long plough and proceed to manoeuvre across the yard. The tractor had been reversed into the building, parked slightly at a left angle. Totally disregarding this and trying something no human has ever attempted before; namely to drive off the yard in front of above mentioned walnut tree, turning sharp right, instead of driving around it. One almighty crash and out comes the wall. Did he stop and look? Like hell he did, drove off, didn’t say a dicky bird to anyone. 


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Wed, Jan 9th - 9:23AM

The Big One

She’s been around for donkey’s years; I’m sure that how she accounts for her size. A few kilos allocated to every year. Don’t get me wrong, it’s all food and laziness here. I’ve been around for donkeys’ years too; I’ve seen what goes down that trap – more than what can come out tother end. What comes out top end is usually to stir things up and not worth listening to.

She got a bit of a come-uppance the other day. Leading two horses back to the stables, one horse steps on the leading rope and tripped her up. The horse then stumbles over her. Obviously she had to let both go, so while they were careering around the place enjoying their new found freedom, with five girls after them, she picks herself up from the rock frozen ground. Blood was pouring out of a gash on her forehead and down her face. Of course, it looked worse than it was. It didn’t even have to be stitched. She is sporting a teensy weenie plaster though.

What do we learn from this lesson? Even after thirty centuries of experience with horses, for your own safety, do not lead them with the lead rope trailing on the ground!

 


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Tue, Jan 8th - 10:31AM

Our Pilot

We’re into the New Year and nothing’s changed.

I’d have thought that our Pilot (works for Germany’ largest airline), might have made a New Year Resolution. Maybe along the lines of “I must be calm, Peace be upon everyone, I must think of my blood pressure.”

Nah, no way.

It’s the 2nd of January, he leads his horse down the slope to the riding arena in order to switch on the lights. The horse takes a fright, he’s like that – a bit unpredictable (it’s the French bloodlines, you see), and knocks his boss over. The language! Two villages further and the residents are still looking up some of those words in the dictionary. Remind me not to fly with a specific airline, misbehave and you’ll get kicked out in midair.


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Tue, Jan 1st - 1:55AM

New Year Celebrations

Well, we’ve entered the New Year without any major hiccups, other than some prankster turning the lights on in the riding arena during the evening. So we switched them off at , apart from that no damn kids have sent their blasted rockets into the stable, set light to the straw bales and let the horses out of the stables during the night. Not that we’ve much problems in the past, occasionally some bright spark opens the stables doors on the six loose boxes outside. Since I hate getting up at three in the morning to catch a horse who doesn’t want to go back home, we’ve put dirty great safety locks on each door.

Last year we nearly beat up the old goat. Three weeks before Christmas he had fallen 2 metres through an old barn roof he had been trying to repair. He was specifically told NOT to go up on that roof. He waited till everyone was indoors having lunch, then climbed on the roof and came straight through it and ended up in hospital. Our horse walker is situated right next to this barn, our Professor was exercising his mare at the time. He wasn’t half pissed off because the horse was jumping sideways and shying at this old twit going up and down the ladder.  Stupid old sod, all he suffered was bruises, concussion and a broken rib.

Anyway, they let him out before New Year, they were probably sick of the sight of him, for a while he’d taken to walking with a stick .

Shortly after on the 31st, we do our usual rounds outside to make sure all is in order. We sense more than actually see somebody wandering around the straw bales. Armed with pitchforks we started our attack. My attitude nowadays is, strike first, ask questions later. I'd put a 220 volt electric fence around our land if I could. Cowering into the straw is the old goat: “I was just making sure everything is O.K”. Pity he didn’t get stuck in the mud right there and then with his bloody stick.


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