I showed her to her room and on her request the view from the top back window, enabling her to comment that it wasn't very big was it and were those my two Lusitano "things" in the field. It's at times like this that I am truly thankful for my qualities of patience and forbearance and the fact that I didn't have the axe, the chainsaw or any one of a myriad of power tools to hand with which to hew her head from her body in a riot of bloody gore and unplanned energy expenditure. Not only that but it turns out she runs a B&B. Once more the Law of Sod deposits upon our doorstep a paying guest who happens to own and run an upmarket B&B in Sussex. You couldn't make it up.
Off she went for supper with the boys, enabling Sid and I to crack on with some gardening (which appears to be our new Friday night thing), only to return a few hours later somewhat the worse for wear, which, setting aside the braying laugh for a moment, was pretty funny. Off she then tottered to bed.
Next morning, up early to drop the car in for a service and horses began arriving around 8am. Nice to see some new faces over the stable doors, and the boys seemed very chilled. So chilled in fact that I rather suspected they hadn't yet noticed. Next time I went up the yard though, Q was in munching hay and remarkably chilled about the whole business, as was T.
Had to take Dora to the vet for some advice on how to treat what turns out to be wet excema, during which time she resolutely refused to let the vet near her with the clippers and we agreed for the sake of all concerned that I would do that bit at home. Also, where once I had imagined that it would be easier to give a tablet to a recalcitrant Rottweiler than it would to a determned cat, I learnt that a resolute Labrador can also prove a bit tricksy. Got round that with cat food in cat bowl - she couldn't believe her luck, as we looked on indulgently.
Made the most of the company on the yard by riding Q in amongst the comings and goings. He was a bit of a spooky fart at first, but lots of hard work and other things to think about cured him of that and we had a good session. Worked T in hand and had some nice piaffe work.
Went over to the neighbours' in the afternoon to watch some of the dressage clinic, which was not at all bad. One of the highlights, bearing in mind that I arrived still wearing my riding clobber, was being asked by our guest if I ride. Er, no. In fact I'm a sexual deviant who enjoys wearing britches and long boots (with spurs on them) in the sweltering heat and hanging out at random dressage clinics. What do I do? Dressage. On the Lusitano things? Must be difficult with horses like them doing what we understand as dressage in this country, and don't they have that funny up and down trot?
Back home to do some gardening, then quick wash and brush up to go back the for barbecue and what turned out to be a general pissup, catching up on local doings and watching the lesson videos with trainer and rider commentary. Not, however, before our guest quizzed Sid about his accent before pronouncing "ah, a Froggie!".
Somehow made it up about 7am this morning, which was a good effort given the amount drunk and lateness going to bed, was going to feed round except there was someone on the yard in their jim jams that wasn't me who'd already done it. Nice!
Our guest wandered up the yard and asked, pointing at T, if this was my little Lusitano stallion, like he's some sort of My Little Pony. I resisted the urge to say ok love, here you go, have a sit on him and then tell how much bigger you think he needs to be. He's 16 hands, for fuck's sake! Arrgghhh.
Over coffee, some light finally dawned on why our guest might be a little bold with her opinions. I'm not sure whether the reference to her "mummy" or "the family money" came first but as they did so in quick succession, all the pieces starting joining together and I was able to reach the inevitable conclusion. The woman has a terminal case of poshness. Not your common or garden poshness, but one that is several notches above that and deserving of some sort of plaudit.
After said guest had departed, I went to poo pick Q's field during which I wasn't paying as much attention as I should have been, Q got between Dora and me and next thing I know he was galloping after her with teeth bared chasing her out of the field - with me running full pelt behind him screaming like a banshee, brandishing a shavings fork. I really thought that was it for a moment and he was going to kill her but he eased off and she was able to get out of the field unscathed. Jesus Christ - that was an appalling moment. She was ok though and thereafter I made her stay in the next field while I finished my doings. Poor puppy :(
Rode Q mid-morning to maximise horse and human traffic coming and going as a training exercise. He was really good and although it was hot we did a comprehensive session that left us both sweaty and mullahed. really pleased with how he conducted himself and indeed how they have both behaved throughout the weekend. Awesome boys.
For the rest of the afternoon: foal visiting, barbecue, a spot more gardening and a session for My Little Pony.
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