[Ag-eq] Some early equestrian recollections

[Michelle Creedy]

That's awesome!

Michelle 


-----Original Message-----
From: Ag-eq [mailto:ag-eq-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Jewel
Sent: Tuesday, November 12, 2013 1:16 AM
To: Agricultural and Equestrean Division List
Subject: [Ag-eq] Some early equestrian recollections

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!
 


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