Pumpkin- time to say goodbye
What's so special about this horse?
Well, for one, I have his genealogical tree going back to 1918... I can barely think of mine beyond 1920! Secondly, Pumpkin's late sire was a stallion named More Pokey and his last job was to... you know, the Queen's mares. No, he didn't die on the job! Apparently he was a fenomenal horse and Pumpkin (Pokey's Bally Milo) has his looks and tallents.
I don't know a lot about horses- apart from how to throw a saddle onto one (we had horses at my grandparents farm - but they were working animals). But, since Pumpkin came into our family, four years ago, I have certainly learnt a lot more!
For a start, they need new shoes every six to eight weeks; they are demanding and grumpy in the morning, they throw tantrums, they sulk, bite and cribb (nibble at things) and hate, just hate injections! They are sensitive, you can hurt their feelings easily and they never forget a face (friendly or otherwise).
However, if you get close to one, real close, you will find it will respond to you just like a child. He will adore you and feel your pain, happiness, sadness or love. Just don't ever laugh at one; I did once (at Danny), he just looked sooo adorable but he has never forgiven me. Everytime I went pass his stable (which was often, as I used to clean his quarters and give him water), he used to purpously turn his backside at me.
For the first few years, Pumpkin has had a meteoric rise in the Showjumping world. Ex partner and I have got him for a steal in a small auction- he was like the proverbial diamond amongst some donkeys and gypsy horses. We moved Pumpkin to an Equestrian Centre and entered him in a few small competitions. Within months his name was on everyone's lips; we were the people everyone in the horse world loved to hate. He was tipped to make it into the Olympic team for the 2012 London games and appeared in countless Horse and Hounds editions.
And then, just like that, he started to wilt... We were lucky enough however to be enlightened and have him moved to a new yard, earlier this year.
Apparently, he was the equivalent of a three year old child genius, in a classroom with eighteen year olds. He might've been a prodigy but still a little kid...in a 17 hands body. Apart from his exercise hours, he was mostly locked away in his stable, which became his private world. He could have might as well be put in a straight jacket. Without praise, a little scratch, a Polo mint, and lots of attention, he was simply bored to tears and after a few years of work and no play, he simply stopped performing...
Well, I bet not many people know just how sensitive horses are - I certainly did not, at the time. They need calibrating- just like a precision living instrument.
Pumpkin now lives in Camber Sands, on the Sussex coast, just near Rye. He has a field with view to a lake and to the sea with his beloved friend Fletcher as company. A chiropractor (!) and psychologist visit every week and what's priceless, he has lots and lots of love.
I went to see him yesterday; as he is no longer mine I simply had to say goodbye. I psyched myself up, playing with Annabel, Pippa, Georgie and Fred who share Pumpkin's new home... I didn't want him to feel me sad- for Pumpkin begins a new journey, destined for stardom. I shall follow his progress with hope and if you see his name mentioned somewhere or during the Olympics, blow him a kiss and wish him well.
PS: re: any mistakes - OK, OK, I said I am no horse expert- if you want to throw any tips- do it gently- I can pass them on to the owner!
PPS: The four little girls (one of which is nicknamed Fred!!!) have decided to call me Rosie for the day... so now I will probably have to change my profile to... Rosie007?
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