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The next day I waited excitedly for Lee to deliver my new pony. Bev had to leave before he arrived and I was disappointed about that because she’s helped me so much in all of this.
The Landrover pulled into the lane and I opened the gate. Lee drove the car and trailer around the field so the back pointed out into the yard. He led the pony out and he was quiet and calm.
“He’s calm now,” Lee said. “But I’d keep that short rope on his head collar to make it easier to catch him. Also, you might want to think about putting a gate over the top of his stable door to stop him jumping over and hurting himself.”
I took the pony into the stable I’d made ready, paid Lee for him and off Lee went. I shut the gates behind him and stood talking to my new pony. 
Well, the new pony looked lost and bewildered, timid, skinny and a bit ragged around the edges. I doubt he’ll be big enough for me to take him to any show humping shows, but I’ve never been one for that kind of thing. He looks like he’ll beef up a bit and he’s a cob-type so he’ll be strong and I’m sure he’ll take my weight on a hack (ride through the woodlands close to us). All I’ve got to do now is feed him up, tidy him up, get him to be less nervous and start trusting me… oh and break him in because he’s 2 years old and not old enough to be ridden yet!
“I thought you were going to buy one that you could ride out?”
“Yeah, I was…”
“So, what happened?”
“I like this one,” I said.
“I told you to spend a bit more money if it got you the right horse,” he said. “This one isn’t even a horse!”
“And he’s only two and probably not broken to ride,” I said quietly.
“So…”
“So, he’s pretty. And he has lovely eyes…”
“Oh, that’s all right then,” he said and laughed at me.
We hooked the makeshift gate over the two screws, left the new pony in his new stable and went home.
The next morning, I went back to the stables after
He was prancing in the paddock, the separate field we put new ponies in to get them used to their new surroundings – it also gave the established herd chance to get to know the new pony without chasing it all over the place, causing stress or damage to the new pony or hedges, gates and fences.
I could see what he was doing. He studied the fence to see if he could get over or through. He’d managed to get over the stable door, I didn’t think it would be long before he figured out how to escape into the next field… and then the next…
The rain started to lash down and the wind blew in gales and gusts across the fields. Oh boy. I was alone in a field with a new pony who looked nothing like the meek and mild creature that had been delivered a few hours before.
“Well, shit,” I said, and plodded off down the field to catch the little bleeder!
I caught him all right. He was great to catch and even if he was reluctant, I’d offer him a mint from my pocket and I could catch him again and again. The problem was, he was spooked by the wind, the new surroundings and the new horses and he wanted to play.
He plays a bit rough…
I was made aware that I was alone on the stable yard and if any accident befell me, I was alone on the stable yard.
I grabbed the nutty pony and talked to him. He came with me so far up the field and then, WALLOP! Suddenly he spooked at something (or nothing) and broke free again. He didn’t bite or kick, but he swung his head and knocked me about.
During one tizzy, he hurt my hand and the nail is still damaged. I don’t know how he did it and I don’t know what he did. All I know is that my finger hurt for weeks and the nail-bed is damaged, deforming the nail.
Just after he'd walloped me
A few hours later
I texted Bev who couldn’t get out of work. I didn’t want to text
Bev said to leave him tied up securely if I could, give him hay and water and she’d phone someone to come and help later that afternoon.
I tied the murderous pony to one of the trailers in the paddock and reluctantly left him to think about the error of his ways.
Later, Bev’s friend Charlotte came to the stables. I was frantic by that time, worried sick about the loony pony. I didn’t mind that he’d injured me, it wasn’t his fault, he was scared.
Charlotte, her dad,
The pallet was put back onto the screws and we breathed a sigh of relief… job done.
Not so!
We watched him. He hooked the half pallet with his nose and pushed it up and off the screws. Then he was already trying to scramble over the door again, even as I picked up the gate he’d discarded.
We needed a couple of hinges! We found one – and a bolt. With rain lashing in sideways, water pouring down the upturned sleeve on his coat,
At last we decided he couldn’t escape and we took Charlotte home (her dad had left on another errand and we promised to get her home safe).
Every day is an adventure, I texted Bev later.
Nutty about horses? Nutty about nutty ponies – that’s me!