We have decided to buy our own horse. I think that’s the only way I’m going to learn about horses – have one that I feed, bond with, groom and so on. Do everything just short of riding it that is. Not so sure you’ll ever see me on a horse. But nooooooo way will I be getting one as humongous as Harold (17.1 hands). As placid as Harold seems to be (unless you get in the way of his food, then watch out), it’s too far up for me when I look at him. I get dizzy.

Lily is more my size but possibly a tad too small. So probably a horse that’s about 14 or 15 hands will do the trick. We’ve been on the search for a pretty horse – one that Tyler will approve of and admire.

I looked at a horse last weekend that I fell in love with – 14 hands, ex-racehorse with pretty, dark caramel eyes. And honest eyes (apparently, in the horsey world, an “honest eye” means no whites showing. As soon as I find out, I’ll let you know what the whites of eyes showing actually means. But sounds like it could signify a scary horse with evil intentions).

Anyway. The horse’s name was Ellie and she was being sold by a piece of fluff – a young girl who looked to be all of 12-years old but was probably around 16 years and had attitude. She had two horses and apparently hadn’t really bonded with Ellie. We asked her to mount up and take Ellie for a ride around the arena at the equestrian centre we went to. The horse had a lovely canter and so I decided to make an offer but, wanting not to look too keen, said I’d ring later.

About 30 minutes later, I get a text message saying “sorry, horse sold”. What the? I didn’t even get a chance to make an offer much less a counter-offer! I cursed, ranted and raved. Poor form on the young girl’s part if you ask me. So here’s a photo of Ellie, the one that got away. Meanwhile, I’m on the trail of another pretty horse.