Friday, 22 January 2016
Some very lucky ponies
After our walk, WD and I went back to her house and went out to make a fuss of her ponies, who were bought off the Forest or rescued, and live such happy lives with her. Here is Woody, snug as a bug in his rug.
The chocolate pony and the ginger pony take their job of reducing the grass in the rested field very seriously,. They are good examples of the sort of mish-mash of bloodlines in New Forest ponies, many different sorts of stallions having been released onto the Forest in Victorian times to "improve" the breed. The chocolate pony has a mealy nose which shows that he has Exmoor blood in him. The ginger pony has driving cob, as he has an upright shoulder and more bone than most Foresters (ooops - sorry, if you're not horsey, more bone means he's got chunkier legs and an upright shoulder holds a harness collar well. For a riding horse a long sloping shoulder is preferable).
The rescue pony, who came as an unweaned foal after his mother had been killed on the Forest roads, is now 9. I can remember him as a dark grey foal. He mobbed me the moment we went into his paddock, licking my hands in great delight! We had great Pony Cuddles.
This is his friend, who spent quite a few years happily roaming the Forest before being brought back up to do some work again. He is The Boss in this field, and let the grey one know it when he pulled a face at him!
I also met WD's lovely puppy, who was so well behaved, bless her. We had soup for lunch, and chatted and bird-watched from the lounge, and I was lucky enough to see one of the Redpolls which has been visiting WD's many bird feeders.
Ponies of a different kind. Tricia, John and I went into Ringwood on the Wednesday and this stunning bronze mare and foal canter across the square. So much movement in those figures.
A corner in Ringwood, looking towards the Church. There was a nice little shop here where I got some more Bamboo socks. They are SO warm . . .
This is Tricia's ginger pony. Again, quite a chunky chappy and with the large head common to the breed.
He was hopeful of Food. Ponies, especially the barrel-shaped ones, have a one track mind!
Another ginger one! He is also a New Forest pony, although he was bred on a German stud and imported when his owner moved here. He is a great age indeed (32 or 33 I think) and only has one toof left.
He is very grey on his face now, with big salt-cellar hollows above his eyes. He was snug as a bug under his rug though, and pleased to see us and be made a fuss of.
Sorry pony, just an apple core today . . .
So now I am back at home and back into my routine, though that was spoilt yesterday when this wretched fluey cold bug returned (a combination of a day's travel, followed by sharing a bottle of vino). This will be my FOURTH week with it, and I had a temperature yesterday (I regretted wearing my new bamboo socks by the time we were in Tesco's and I nearly took them off to cool down!) In the night I woke up sweating like a race-horse again, so I am hoping I will feel a bit brighter today. I know I daren't do anything much until this has finally left me as any exertion (gardening for example) brings it out of the woodwork once more.
It was lovely to see Tricia again and I'll be going back down again in March.