I will write a number of horse stories in time. My daughter Jo has always loved all things equine. She has owned some amazing horses and has won countless events herself.
Now I have always wanted to support Jo by riding myself. I have tried but largely due to a horse called Frank I am afraid that I do not sit comfortably on a horse. Frank was a large grey horse at the local riding stables. Once on one of my first lessons he bucked in the indoor ring. I was cantering at the time and it scared me. My teacher laughed and said something like ‘naughty Frank.’
I went out for a hack with the riding school one autumn day and foolishly I accepted Frank as my mount. All was well as we walked along the country lanes but as soon as we hit the stubble of the freshly cropped field Frank became possessed. He was off, full bore with the occasional bronk for good measure. I have never ever felt so afraid. I grasped on to his main and tried to do all the things I had been told , in theory, to slow him down. No good, he thundered over the ground for about a mile before stopping in his own time. I was shaking like leaf when the anxious woman from the riding school came along side me. She tried to make light of the situation but I was clearly traumatised as she took my reins and led me home.
I have ridden a horse on a number of occasions since including a former winner of the Norwegian Grand national. But that is another tale. I was determined to try and conquer my new found fear and in the end I found the perfect horse.
File Concord was twenty something. He was a former race horse, look him up, and he was ‘out to pasture’ at our good friends and neighbours David and Mary Laing. His trainer had been none other than Jenny Pitman who was a friend of The Laings.
Now the thing about this horse was he could no longer run more than about twenty metres with someone on his back. He was quite large I remember but very kindly towards me. I would take him to a field and make him run his 20 and maybe a second time for good measure. Once I had done this his running was done and we would just amble along, all very nice. In truth it was so low risk as to be boring but I did like to put my kit on and take him out.
Remarkably one Sunday we were invited to a Laing Sunday lunch. As usual all sorts of interesting people in this case including Jemmy Pitman. She turned up in her glam kit with a handbag. She declared this to be highly unusual and she told us all sorts of wonderful tales regarding the racing world over lunch. I told her how much I liked File Concord and she was keen to go and see the old boy. We walked together to the fence rail of a large field about 2 or 3 hundred yards away FC, as he was known, was munching away on some grass. Jenny climbed over the fence, high heels and all and let out a shriek. FC stiffened raised his head and immediately set off at full gallop across the field stopping precisely head to head with Jenny. It was spectacular to behold as it was moving. Jenny petted the old boy he whinnied and nodded his head. They nuzzled. It had been around ten years since they had last met she told me.
My daughter had often told me about horse people connections. This was the first time I saw one so close. Amazing. Bless FC!
Tales of a Life Well Lived 