Wednesday, 29 January 2014
I loved horses. When I was young mum would drop me off at the local riding school on Saturday morning. I would spend all day there helping – grooming, feeding, saddling up horses and so on.
The owners would let me go on a free trail ride on Sunday. It was heaven. Cantering away from everything. I just loved it.
We couldn't afford a horse but the other kids at the riding school had them. I would hate the way they would snigger at me as I was helping them get ready for a ride. The other kids had proper riding clothes and boots too. I only had jeans and sneakers. I was just 7 years old. I would have to wear the same clothes every weekend. I didn't care what the others thought of me, or that I didn't have all the swish clothes. I just wanted to be able to talk to the horses.
The horses didn't didn't care that I wasn’t one of those kids. The horses were my friends. Riding was my escape. The horses understood.