The first time I got on my pony , I fell off . Took off like a bullet across the field and I bailed as she went for the post and rails . And cleared it .
The first time we took her for a walk , because she'd contracted ringworm from the con artist dealers that we got her from , she bucked , jogged , and tried to drag us down the road . The only moment she stood still was when the skip lorry went past . That almost made my mum send her back .
The first time we hacked out , I fell off , because she discovered sheep . And promptly screeched to a halt and put her head down, so I sailed over her head .
I fell off more times in that first year , than I can remember . I broke two ribs , and cried so many tears of frustration I can't tell you . But I had her for 32 years , and she was the same incorrigible speedy Gonzales until the day she died . She was my soulmate and partner in crime , and no other horse I've had since , however lovely , has come close . So it might be a knock , but persevere , unless you 're frightened , or really hating it . Because when you achieve something with them , it really does feel all the sweeter .
Says she with her own demon of a creature who is being a complete shit at the moment , because he's too bloody brave for both our good .