Bree

I had to wait in line. Sarah also wanted a horse and unlike me, didn't let the same obstacles that I self imposed to get in the way. Can we afford a horse, where do we put it, what will this mean to our lives etc?

She out maneuvered me while I was still in the slow lane of day dreaming and as is the case many times, she put thoughts into action and reached the goal first. Let all the issues sort themselves out. She bought a horse.

Bree entered our world. A black Standard Bred, never been raced. Got through life on her pretty looks.

A cantankerous ride if I ever saw one. Bossy, demanding, a total prima donna. I told Sarah that Bree took after her side of the family. A finer peering one could not find. 

What started next was my true introduction to horse ownership. The horse comes first, weary husbands are second. as the horse was paddocked away from home, there was two visits a day needed, in the morning before work and after work.

Horse poo needed to be picked up from the field everyday. I never remember seeing this happening on Black Beauty, Hollyfoot Farm or those other TV shows during the '70s that I grew up with. In fact I cannot even remember that happening with Mr Charteris, but it must have, just something else which i have blocked out of my memory. Along with the times I use to wear bright yellow polo neck skivvie with brown corduroy pants or trips to the Dental nurse (or the Murder House as kids everywhere referred to it).

The other new experience was all the paraphernalia that owning a horse required. soon the living room was taken up with saddle pads, bridles, leads, lunging rollers, long reins, cavessons, chambons and covers.

Oh, the covers. one for every occasion that Bree may find herself in. The horse out on the town must only be seen in this years colours and style. such a fashion faux pas if the weather called for a Zilco Hamilton 18 denier showerproof double ripstop canvas with a generous 1 metre drop and Bree was turned out in a Weatherbetta waterproof and breathable strong 1200D ripstop outer shell with no fill which features traditional side gussets and larger tail flap, with removable web/elastic straps for added comfort (available in Purple/Taupe) with matching neckrug.

The only thing missing from the once was a living room in a small two bedroom cottage, now is a tack room with enough gear for four horses, was the saddle. for being the little princess that Bree is, like Cinderella and the glass slipper, no saddle fitted her properly. The ever elusive correctly fitting saddle hunt was afoot. with a flat back and hardly any wither to speak of Bree once again demonstrated her specialness.

Saddles came and went. I was introduced to the length and breadth of the saddle world. terminology such as the tree (conversely treeless), twists, gullets, stirrup leathers, fenders and channels.

I managed to get my own back when I went western and introduced latigo, canticle, rigging  Ds, Cheyenne rolls and flank billets to our household lexicon.

The internet was scoured and visits to sellers on TradeMe and other saddlery shops was made. I would be travelling to a meeting for work when I would receive a call from Sarah directing me to stop whatever I was doing and visit a local seller in case that one and only saddle, that magic saddle, was the One! 

It would not be the first time that me, fulfilling the role as the equestrian newbie would find himself in a shop asking a very bemused sales staff about the saddle they had for sale as we were looking for a saddle with a very wide gussett. I managed to stay away from Blackhawks saddlery in Oamaru for several months until the laughter had stopped over that slip up in terminology

Finding the holy grail was starting to turn out to be a more realistic proposition as opposed to finding a saddle that would fit Brees billiard table level back. Saddle fitters came out, inspected Brees back, looked at the fit of the latest saddle and with the same sad shake of the head reserved to doctors on daytime soaps when they are delivering the news of the death of a character (just before the evil twin turns up as a shocking plot twist), the saddle was destined to be cleaned up and onsold to the next horse owner also searching for the ONE saddle to fit their horse. 

I started holding conversations and passing judgements on the various advantages and disadvantageous of Bates over Status, Wintec versus Baines etc. identification of what a saddle was used for came much slower. 

An English GP to me was a family doctor found in the UK, sometimes with a perchant for knocking off their patients with overdoses of morphine (I'm looking at you, Harold). It was not unusual for two identical (to me) saddles being shown to me and patiently having it explained to me that one was for jumping and the other was dressage. a difference that should be painfully obvious based on amount of resignation in the voice of the deliverer.

To Sarah's credit the entire process of purchasing and on-selling saddles was almost cost neutral. Which was handy as we rapidly went through and discarded the cheap saddles, then the moderately expensive ones, before reaching the you-have-to-be-joking-no-fool-is-going-to-pay-that-much saddles.

It was about this stage that the elusive saddle was found. The Barefoot treeless. Able to conform to Bree's rotund figure, no pressure points and an armchair quality when sitting on it. The Eagle had landed!

Of course, when it came to my horse, it was going to be just as difficult getting the right saddle.

But first I ACTUALLY had to get a horse.