He shoots, he scores.

Unusually for me, I haven’t had the urge to get out of bed & pester neddies on the last four gloriously sunny days of night duty.

So I decided that come what may, on my 1st day off today I would definitely get up early & go.

In the fog. And the wind.
The 2 don’t usually go together but they did today.

I arrived at the stables to find the neddies stood around in the field. Bad sign. For the last few weeks they’ve been sheltering in the barn. This means Snips is bored & cold & therefore easier to catch.

As soon as they venture onto the green stuff I know I’ve got my work cut out to catch him. He’ll be difficult to catch until approximately December now.

We commenced our usual game of cat & mouse. I approach with a proffered hand full of feed & honeyed tones. He regards me with deep suspicion & turns his backside towards me, threatening to kick.

For the last 7 years, threatening is all he’s ever done.

The game concludes as soon as I get a hand on him. For some reason, at that point he thinks he can’t move & I am able to put a halter on him.

Slightly different outcome today.

I put a hand on his rump.

He booted me in the ribs.

Still determined to catch him, I reasoned there was no point beating him senseless with the headcollar as then I’d never be able to get near him. Some 20 minutes later when I realised it was pointless trying to catch him, it would have been fruitless to wallop him then (although it would have made me feel better).

On the upside the kick wasn’t a full-strength one, if it had been I would have been in trouble, it was more like ‘You’re really pi55ing me off, please leave me alone’. On the downside my mouth was open as he kicked me & my jaws clattered together leaving me with a humdinger of a headache.

Having thrown my toys out of the pram as far as Snippet was concerned, I flounced off to ride Hannah.
That’ll learn him.

So having been attacked by the nice-natured neddy I then went to ride the hormonal one, praying she’d be gentle with me.

And what do you know ? She was.

Which just goes to show – horses, can’t trust ‘em.

Cx