5 Sept 2004
Getting Ruby's Goat
Okay, now, here is the update on Ruby. We've driven quite a few miles by now and we are tuning in to each other beautifully. After the 10 miles drive last week she had a day off (I needed to go and buy human food and do other boring things), but on Saturday we set off to do about 7 miles, up past the local racehorse training establishment and turn around at a farm, then come home. Ruby was a little restive on setting off - once harnessed I had to put her back in place after I untied her, because she was for going without me! - but I was gentle with her, just very attentive, so she didn't have any excuses to try playing up. That's not to say she was trying to be naughty - just that she was feeling sharp and her thoughts were likely to turn into action quite quickly (a bit like the mule team in Barb's story). I knew I needed to be on the same wavelength so as not to find myself in a field if the gate happened to be open as we passed it!
I kept her occupied with changes of pace, and concentrating on the long walk, and we reached our turning point relatively soon. I showed her the big black-wrapped silage bales on the farm lane, and she agreed they were not horse-eaters, and we set off home at a nice, quick but balanced trot. Coming down the hill to New House, I asked her to steady, pointing out that the surface was "slippy", and she sat cleverly into the breeching, working well. Her quick brain said,"If I trot on the verge, I will get more grip", and I agreed, so she moved over a couple of points, and then! she saw them! a little paddock full of KILLER GOATS!
The term "bomb-proof" went out of the window immediately. We swerved, we snorted, we backed, we squiggled, we backed uphill and over humps and down again. Two motorcycles following us helpfully cut their engines and waited for developments. I had my hands full, but told them cheerfully: thanks, but they were not the cause of the problem, it was the goats! and that, if they would please go on, we would continue our argument once they had gone. I think they laughed - it's hard to tell under those full- face helmets - at NOT being the cause of a horse misbehaving for once.
Ruby by this time was 10 yards back from where she'd started fussing, and facing up a bank with the goats hidden behind her blinkers - puffing partly with fright and partly with the effort of backing in soft grass uphill. I knew I could rely on my vehicle's stability - it has always been excellent, but in addition, I carry a 4 stone potato weight buckled onto the back step, which is lower than the axle, so the centre of gravity is pretty low!! - so I had no hesitation in taking her gently round and down the hill past the goats once more. The owner kindly walked out and enticed the goats to walk to him at the other end of the fence, away from the direction we wanted to go.
Ruby snorted and fussed and tried to tie herself into a knot, but allowed herself to be steered past safely, and although she wanted to rush off once we had gone by, I didn't let her until some of the steam had died. Then we trotted home with no further incidents. (Although I admit her time along the "home stretch" was a record for her so far! and the goat owner said "By gum, once she got going she didn't half pick her feet up!")
I brought Ruby out this morning with a strategy in mind. I was going out with my endurance riding friend Rhonda and her Arab mare Hasty. Rhonda wanted to go up the fell and go some fast work with Hasty, but was willing to walk the first section with me and Ruby. We set off together from my yard about 8-30 am.
Both mares were soon quite hot, as the morning was warm and the air humid; they moved on freely but were not edgy. Ruby did a lot of throat-clearing when we trotted, so the walk across the fell was a good exercise, keeping her moving strongly without stressing her. We reached the road on the other side roughly an hour after we set off from home, and I took Ruby through the gate beside the cattle grid. She behaved very well, although she doesn't much like the noise of cars running over the bars of the grid beside the gate; she came with me quietly as I shoved the gate over the long grass, and sidestepped neatly round to let me close it again. Rhonda stayed on the other side and once I was settled in the cart again, headed off for her gallop up the old Roman Road.
I took Ruby down the main road, which was going to lead her back to New House again. She jog-trotted freely down the long hill, balanced and sober, ears flicking as she surveyed the countryside. I put her onto the grass verge early so we had lots of sea- room in case she made any objections to getting near the goat paddock. And there, by prior arrangement, was David Trotter, her "friend" who started her in harness for me, standing between her and the goats and talking to her as she got near the " danger zone". She didn't quite know whether to make a fuss or not, but decided that after 4 miles and the walk over the fell on a warm morning, if David and I both said they were safe, she would go along with that. Provided they stayed on the other side of the paddock!
We took her past the paddock up the side road, and unyoked her. We fastened up all the trailing ends safely, put a lead rope on her headcollar, and then let her graze the young grass beside the paddock fence. She had a good look at the goats, and decided that they were not scarey enough to stop her eating. David and I stood and talked to her, and to the goat owner and his sister, and with all the relaxed vibes around her she was soon quite calm. After about 30 minutes, we put her back in the carriage, and I drove her along by the paddock on the side road a couple of times; she looked at the goats, and pricked her ears, and didn't falter. So we did it a couple more times, and went quietly home.
The sun had broken through the low morning cloud by now; it was 10-30 am, the day was warm, the wet grass glistened in the sunlight and the families of lapwings practised aerobatics. The Howgill Fells lay brown and grey under the blue and white patched sky, with wisps of low lying mist steaming up from their flanks as the air warmed above them. The sheep and cattle grazed peacefully, horses in fields were too preoccupied with eating to come galloping alongside, cars passed us peacefully and their occupants smiled at us, and Ruby trotted calmly homeward with some new knowledge in her head. It was a wonderful morning to be alive.
Sue in the English Lakes
Intelligence is no defence against one's own stupidity