On Horsies.

Only not actually on them, since I don't really know how to ride.

Been working at the riding school down the road, technically since Monday - however, due to none of the owners actually showing up at the agreed time I went home and started work properly on Tuesday.

I haven't really had the time or energy to write of late, since I've been getting up around 8, followed often by cycling the half-hour trip to (for 10am) and from (7pm) a job that involves a lot of physical activity and very little sitting-down time, and crashing out by midnight.

It's amusing work, and it's slightly scary to think that a few days ago I knew little about how to handle horses and ponies. Bear in mind that at the point I write this, catching, leading, grooming, tacking-up and mucking-out the horsies are all things done almost on automatic.

Among the rather impressive list of other things the owner has managed to get into my head within a few days are a short list of UK plants that are poisonous to horses, the botfly life cycle (sketchy but relevant version), the proper way to put on tail and leg bandages, how to clean tack, how to put a bridle back together after it's been cleaned, and that she likes black tea (not too strong please and no sugar).

Other things I have learned all by myself is that horsey girls do often look like their "pets" (most have extremely long ponytails and/or are pretty in a lanky way, like foals, but one or two have had horsey overbites - these are in the small minority) and that, here at least, only a few of them are snobby.

Also, that the one who loudly refuses to do the revision work you've been asked to do with them because they already know it will definitely be the only one who can't answer a question when tested. And will usually look on you as an idiot if you ask them a revision question of "so what does ragwort look like?" shortly after you pointing it out to them on a wall chart, because they somehow still assume it's an honest inquiry.

---

Yesterday (Saturday) was a fairly busy day (apparently all Saturdays are): the interesting consequence of this was that I was handed a booklet and asked to teach three of the newest girls the basics of equine first aid. It was all very sensible and straightforward, thankfully, but I still suspect that the only bit they'll remember is how to take a horse's temperature.

If you really must ask why, I offer: "Communism, yeah!" and expect you to be able to work it out for yourselves.

The sad fact is that stables are, of their very nature, rife with toilet humour opportunities.

- The animals create large piles of very strongly-smelling dung, and make an effort to stand in it when they see someone coming in with a scoop.

- Mucking-out often involves thinking that the job is finished, followed by standing on what is euphemistically referred to as "buried treasure". I don't know how they manage to cover it so well. Seriously, sometimes it's like they dug a little hole first specifically for the purpose.

- The geldings insist on trying to prove, when passing the mares' field, that the vet sure didn't take their manhood (earlier today I was asked by a six-year-old girl what "that thing hanging off [a fully-extended] A.J." was. I settled for "his boy parts"). Someone expressed the opinion that many of the girls (age range mostly 6-11) are likely to be disappointed in future boyfriends.

- Horse flatulence is about as subtle as the average air-horn, and often causes the raised tail to flutter about rather dramatically in the breeze.

- If one of the stabled animals feels an itch coming on, the itch is invariably located in the buttocks, and the animal is secure in its belief that the door and front wall of the stable have the best texture to scratch itself against. It becomes somewhat awkward to tack up if you can't get into the box because you're faced with a massive arse shimmying and bumping against the door.

- And of course, there's the strong urge to reply when someone wonders aloud why an animal who's had little human contact other than being gelded is so reluctant to allow people near him.