Introducing Mr Statistic

We had a bit of a false start in finding a replacement horse for me when we tried to pick up a beautiful black mare with looks and temperament to rival Bree's. We didn't even make it out of the paddock as she threw an epic temper tantrum in the back of the float which sort of turned everyone off of the idea.

Then Sarah heard of a horse up in Cromwell. He was listed as a Southern Man's horse. Race name Mr Statistic (breeders really hate race commentators!) Stat for short. He was a bay coloured Standardbred, 16.3 hands and was born in 2000 making him 14 years old at the time. In short order a date and time was arranged for a trip up to Cromwell to see how he measured up in the flesh.

To be honest, I had mixed emotions on the trip up. I was still quite raw after Red. I wasn't sure if I wanted to invest that much emotion back into a horse again. We met up with Emma, Stats owner, at the Cromwell Racetrack where she leased land for her horses.

How could you not love this face?

Seeing Stat standing there in the paddock made me nervous and excited all over again. His coat was long and he had a shaggy look to him. He had a white star on his forehead which stood out like a light. One of the things that really perked my interest is that when we took him out of the paddock, he did not seem to care that his paddock mate was not coming along too. An independant horse! excellent.

As Emma talked to Sarah about all the important things that people who know what they are talking about talk about, I walked around Stat trying to figure out what I should be looking for. Do people really check the teeth of a horse? or should I be following the whole never look a gift horse in the mouth line of things? So I fell back to what I do when I wander around car sales yards even though I know nothing about cars either.

Body work: Shaggy, but it is winter in Central Otago. No insects making it their home. Dusty from all the fine alluvial dirt that Central Otago is known for. Softly patting his back raised clouds of dust. No evidence of previous collisions or damage (a couple of strange bumps in what I would class the lumbar region of the spine, but no tenderness on palpation. No signs of bog filler or previous panel beating.

Fluid Levels: A bit difficult as there was no dipstick (nothing I wanted to fiddle around with anyway  and in reality we had just met so I shouldn't be being that familiar with Stat). His eyes were damp looking, not dry, not weeping so I took that as a good sign.

Suspension:  Walking Stat around did not give any indication of a limp nor asymmetrical movement of the legs. Running the hands down the legs I couldn't feel any differences in muscle indicating atrophy.

Tyres: Resisting the normal urge to kick tyres, I instead picked up the feet, looking and wittering to myself quietly trying to generate an air of a knowledgeable equine person. I stopped wittering at Stats offside front hoof. There was a long crack in the hoof. Oh, thats not good. My heart dropped. As Sarah always told me, look after the feet. no feet, no horse. Sarah took over the examination of the hoof and started to poke, prod without any reaction from Stat. We took a couple of photos to discuss later with our barefoot trimmer, Wayne. Not a deal breaker but I started to steel my heart that this might be not a happening thing.

The test drive: With Emma's help we saddled up Stat. Emma did warn me that he didn't stand still well for saddling and once the saddle was on, to get on straight away as Stat didn't really display much in the way of patience. In reality, unless he launched forward bucking like Red had done, he was still a winner.

Sure enough, as soon as the saddle was on, he wanted to get moving. I quickly got on and we started to move. I didn't feel good. I didn't feel secure on his back. whereas in the past I would have bailed, I now had a bit of time in the saddle under the belt to stick around and try to find the source of my insecurity. Was it Stat? Was it the way he moved? Was it the saddle? Was it the fact that I was sitting on a strange horse, using different tack and viewing a horse from a viewpoint of suitability?

I decided to put it down to different tack. Stop looking for the reasons why not to buy Stat, but instead look at why I should.

He was a good, solid looking horse. He wasn't herd bound. In doing a bit of lunging I could see that whilst not as light to pressure as Red had been, he did respond.

And the deal clincher? He let me hug him around the neck. I missed doing that with Red.

We made some positive noises to Emma and left to spend the night in Queenstown. If I can, I never make a decision like this on the same day. This method of course was not one to be used when I was a paramedic, but it really made things enjoyable when dealing with door to door salesman (use to really annoy them after they ran through their spiel to tell them that I never made decisions the same day).

That night Sarah and I had a real heart to heart talk about Stat. A phone call to Wayne was made where I described the crack in the hoof to him, which he in turn reassured me that this did not mean Stat was about to lose a hoof.

Emma was contacted and we started to discuss money for Stat. This was the getting close to negotiating the final hurdle. If the price was too high, I would take it as a sign. Nope, the price was reasonable and within the limit I had mentally given myself. Now this was starting to get serious, I was running out of excuses.

I lay in bed that night thinking what I should do. Oh, I knew that I was going to end up with Stat, I just needed to go through the process of moving on from Red. Not just because he had been my first horse that I ever owned, but coming to terms that if I ended up with a horse that I couldn't ride for whatever reason as it had been with Red, how was that going to fit in with future plans?

The next morning Emma was contacted and we decided that on our return journey back through Cromwell that Sarah and I would revisit Stat and see how I was feeling.

Once again, when we turned up to the paddock, Stat came over to the fence. It may have had something more to do with the treat I had brought along for him and his paddock mate than any other sort of psychic connection, but I just ran with it.

Once again there was no separation anxiety when I took him away from his mate to do some basic ground work. He lunged fine and seemed to pick up on some corrections I did with him quite quickly so he was a fast learner. Our little activities concluded by me leading him over a nearby rocky pile of dirt. he was sure footed and didn't shy from where I was leading him. I needed a trekking horse.

As I put him back into the paddock, again I hugged him, he smelt divine. I didn't stand a chance. I confirmed with Sarah that I was having Stat.

Emma was contacted and my people spoke to her people. I don't sully myself with such details. Dates were discussed for pick up, transport was arranged (still didn't trust our Nissan Terrano to pull a float), process for money to change hands etc. I was not involved in any of this planning.

 I was still hugging my horse.

That weekend a person who Sarah knew, Lyn, picked me up with her vehicle and float to go and collect Stat.

As we arrived at Cromwell, I was hit with sudden nervousness, What do we do if he doesn't get on the float? OMG, I hadn't considered this possibility. I could have just wasted a five hour return trip for a horse that I cant take home. OMG!

Lyn assured me that she has some tricks including a treat that no horse can resist. We will get him on.

I think that this optimism of Lyn's may have started to dwindle around the one hour later mark, when we were all standing around the float, trying to get an obstinate Stat up the ramp. He was not having a bar of it. The treats didn't work, the food bucket didn't work, the filled hay net didn't work, applying pressure didn't work.

I was starting to wonder just what exactly the etiquette was in asking Emma for the money back that I had given to her when we first arrived as Stat's payment.

Finally in the float

Stat was giving an impressive example of being a giraffe, with his front feet on the bottom of the ramp and stretching his neck all the way up to nibble at the just out of reach feed bucket.

Just when I was thinking we were all going to have to pack it in and head home, Stat suddenly decided Hell, why not just walk up the ramp into the float. as soon as his bum past the entrance to the float, the bum bar was put up and the ramp closed.

Quickly I thanked Emma and leapt into Lyn's truck. I just wanted us to get moving before Stat changed his mind and started to dismantle Lyn's float. we did have a couple of kicks from Stat and as we were going through the Cromwell Gorge Lyn commented that from the feel of the truck, that Stat was leaning from time to time trying to keep his balance.

Lyn handled the trip back very calmly, unlike me. I hate towing at the best of time (I have attended a couple of float rollovers in the UK, one with dire consequences for the horse in the back) so I was constantly checking the position of the float to see if there was any swaying starting up.

It was with great relief that we arrived in Brighton. I had been in conversation with Sarah by phone the closer we got to Brighton and on her suggestion we decided to pull into a layby that is near the house to unload Stat.

When we put the ramp down we saw the reason why Stat had quietened down on the journey. Lyn had also been transporting a bale of lucerne in the front of the float in a hay bag. Stat had managed to unwrap the lucerne, lift it up over the chest board and spread it around the back of the float. He seemed to enjoy the inflight meal.


Stat was hyper alert as we walked up the road to the house, taking in his surroundings as we walked down the path to the paddocks. As he came through the gate he immediately saw Bree standing there at the fence. He came to a complete halt as Bree started up her welcoming squeals. I explained to Stat that she was crazy as a loon and it would be in his best interests to just ignore her.

Food, food everywhere

I walked him around his separate paddock pointing out the various features like the water trough, hay bin and such like, just to help him get his bearings. He was very interested in the grass. Central Otago is renown for its dry, arid conditions and to suddenly find himself on the damp coast with green grass everywhere was just like hitting the jackpot for Stat.

We spent a bit of time wandering around the field with me being faithfully followed by Stat. I took this as a good sign.

I was happy, relieved and a bit nervous of what the next days, weeks and months would bring as Stat and I started to get to really know each other.

Clouds of Central Otago dust after a good shake

Advising Stat to stay away from the two vixens in the next paddock