Tom’s first day of turnout after more than three weeks of ‘confinement’; things were fraught!
By 7am we were schooling in the indoor arena.
An hour and a quarter later Tom was out in his new field, cavorting around like a two-year-old; bucking, rolling, bucking, rolling then bucking again.
Then he had a canter around the field, checking out the new fencing. I don’t know if he was looking at it thinking ‘Nah’ or sizing it up with a ‘That would be easy!’.
After what seemed an age but was really less than five minutes he’d got it all out of his system and was head-down, grazing.
I stayed and watched for ages, just to make sure he stayed put and then legged it out of the rain in to the tack room for tea and ahem biscuits and ahem cake.
I kept checking on him, but every time I looked he was a) still in place and b) grazing peacefully.
The weather deteriorated so I fetched him in at 11.15; the conditions were so awful that Tom walked up to me and put his head down for the headcollar.
After I’d swapped rugs and carrotted and generally loved both Vin and Tom, R arrived.
I showed him around the yard, introduced him to the girls who were on duty (I may have said that he was single and loaded and in to horses) and then we legged it through the sleet to The Lamb Inn in Shipton-under-Wychwood.
Lunch, beer and gossip was had.
Back at home Soph and I fell asleep whilst watching High Society.
And now it’s back to the diet of Grey’s Anatomy and Pringle sandwiches.
Welcome to my day.