The Deniable Cost of the Equine

I’ve just returned from a fabulous weekend at Aintree. No, wait, that’s not right. In truth I’ve actually just had a fabulous weekend at Aintree in my mind.  I think I may speak for many people who live in the countryside when I say that holidays are far more bother than they are worth. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to head off somewhere hot and sunny for a fortnight, but by the time you’ve organised who the hell will come and feed the cat, chuck the horse a bit of hay and generally check the house hasn’t been burgled, I would just rather stay at home. Already I know what you are thinking. You’re thinking: “This woman has a horse, she must be loaded. Why doesn’t she just ring one of those pet sitter people who charge more than the total cost of your holiday to move into your house while you are in sunnier climes and look after the menagerie and the house?” Unfortunately, there are two kinds of horse owners in this world. There are the type who are rich and can therefore afford to keep and a horse and there are those who have no money to the point of destitution due to the fact that they have a horse. I hereby hold both of my hands aloft and confess (in case you couldn’t guess) that I fall in to the latter category. Horses are damned expensive creatures. They are so expensive to keep that whenever anyone (from my family to total strangers) tell me that horses are expensive, I immediately forcibly deny that they are not. So not only am I flippin skint I am also in denial. I have tried over the years to justify the cost. I inform people that they are only costly to keep when you have to pay a livery fee each week to keep the horse in someone else’s field, with access to a stable. I keep my horse at home so not only do I appear loaded to the uneducated eye but this is surely the nearest that you can get to keeping a horse for free, yes? Actually no. Aside from the Farrier who visits your property every six to eight weeks, drinks coffee at lightening speed and nails on another set of shoes for your horse to wear out over the next six to eight weeks, there’s the Vet. If you are lucky and don’t have an accident prone equine, there is still a flu booster every year and a yearly check and rasp of Dobbin’s nashers. Again if you are fortunate, Dobbin will be a model patient and stand quietly while the Vet flattens and smooths his teeth with a big cordless rasp. However, if Dobbin turns into a wet shaking dishcloth when he sees anyone climb out of a 4 x 4 in a boiler suit with the word VET emblazoned across the front, he will need of a large shot of neat gin (sedative) to enable the Vet to complete the dentistry appointment. This in turn costs yet more money. And it doesn’t end there. “Paddock Maintenance” is not cheap. Grass seed costs slightly more per kilo than cocaine and you can’t use ordinary fertiliser that you could buy from the Farmer next door. You have to use special fertiliser that makes the grass grow slowly so that Dobbin doesn’t end up eating grass that is too rich for him and ensuring another call out fee from the Vet. There’s also nice soft bedding to buy so that Dobbin has something cosy to lie on when he comes into his stable and hay; which unlike the neatly packaged plastic bags in pet shops, comes in enormous round bales which work out cheaper than the handy little square ones that would stack very neatly underneath a tarpaulin. There’s the cost of Dobbin’s worming, his insurance and that’s all before we get started on the fun bit of buying things for you and him to wear. It’s astonishing that you can buy a large plastic bucket for use in your garden for £1.99 in the local tat shop but if you were to stick a heap of these plastic buckets underneath a sign that says “Mucking out Tools” they are suddenly £8.99 and selling like hot cakes at a garden fete.

You could buy a horse or you could buy Beluga caviar and feed it to your cat. Everyday. And then there’s the time it takes to take (good) care of a horse. Okay, you can chuck the beast out in a 10 acre field and forget about it until you want to go for a ride, but it’s not really fair on Dobbin. He, his field fencing and water supply should be checked twice a day. He should have the mud plucked from his feet every day and be groomed to keep his coat looking glossy and shiny. This all takes time and why do we horsey types do this? Simples. For the feeling of sitting on this brave and trusting creature, for the gallop along the beach with the bracing wind squeezing tears from our eyes. For the red rosette and the words of praise from the judge, for the moment that Dobbin does the right thing at the right time and you remind yourself that you and you alone taught him to do that. For the moment that the combine harvester passes you on the other side of the hedge and Dobbin remains motionless; because he trusts you. For the moment that you let him go in the 10 acre field, with his mane still crimped from the freshly removed plaits after today’s competition and he waits for you to rub his forehead in thanks before he trots off to eat grass. Then and only then do you know why you do it.