[Ag-eq] Some early equestrian recollections

[Jewel]

This is an excerpt from "My Life With Guide Dogs" the book that I wrote .
The following took place in the late forties/early fifties.

        Jewel




     When I went home for Christmas Holidays there were always
ponies and horses to ride.  My parents, as in the days after I lost
my sight, put no obstacles in my way, and encouraged me to do
whatever I wanted, so riding horses and ponies was one of my
priorities.  It actually is a bit of a mystery why Mum owned
ponies, as neither she or Dad were horse people.  Nothing would
induce my father to get on a horse.  "Not enough handles" he
maintained.  At the time, I was the only one in the family to show any interest in horses, and I was 
home for so little of the year.
If there were no suitable horses on the
property at the time of my holidays, Mum would borrow one.  One of
these, was a lovely pony named Ginger who had been a pit pony in a
mine on the west coast.  I used to ride around the property on my
own, but Of course, when I went out on to the road, I had to be
accompanied.  This task usually fell to my sister, Deslie, who
would be on a bike.  I refused to go on a leading rein, so she
would just keep level with me giving any instructions that were
needed.  One day, I went out with Dad.  To save his legs, we ran a
rope from the cantle of Ginger's saddle to the handlebars of Dad's
bike.  Ginger must have thought that he was back in the mine
pulling a coal truck.  I have never known a pony to be able to trot
so fast while keeping it's legs going in the right order.  If
trotters on the race track could do it as well, they would be world
beaters.

     One year, I had the use of a Thoroughbred.  He was being
grazed at our place by the next door neighbour.  He had been a
steeplechaser, and as he was very tall, I had to mount him at home
from the top of an apple box.  Once I was up, I had to stay there,
as I could not get my foot in the stirrup from ground level.  One
day, Deslie and I were out, when Boss shied and he and I parted
company.  We led him along to a gate that I could stand on but we
could not get him close enough for me to leap across the
intervening gap, and then along came a farmer who must have been
used to throwing sacks of grain around.  He gave me a leg up with
so much force that, in spite of Boss's 17 hands, , it was
only my grip on the saddle that prevented me landing on the ground
on the far side.

     Another time out with Boss, he took off into a gallop.  Now!
I had never ridden at a gallop before. I knew that if I could stay
with him, he would run out of puff.  His owner had told me that as
he had been a racehorse, tightening the reins would make him go
faster.  As far as I was concerned, he was going quite fast enough: thank you very much!:
so I just let him go.  It was on a shingle road, and Deslie, on her
bike,  was left, gasping, far  in the rear.  I raced past a man, and when
Deslie puffed up in a minute or so, he said in a quite matter of
fact way "Oh, Jewel went by here a little while ago."  When Deslie
arrived, she was breathless and suffering [not in silence]  from
riding at such a breakneck pace over the rough surface.  Boss had
blown himself out and I was still in the saddle, which in itself, was a minor miracle as I was 
laughing so hard!  with relief or female hysterics?  well take your pick!