You may be aware, if you have scrolled down the Welcome page of this website, that I have published a small book of cartoons entitled A Girl And Her Horse. It’s very thin, with little text and lots of images and was really fun to write/draw and then turn into a real book (I’m becoming addicted to creating and publishing books. This is actually the second one, as I’ve self-published a novel under a pen-name!). So I thought I’d write a post to introduce it.
It all started with an incident involving me, my horse and a round-pen. Rinding without any tack had always been a dream of mine. When I got my horse (Québec, a 15 yo French trotter with lots of character and an variable temper), I decided I would ride him tackless. So here we were. Me and my horse, without any saddle or bridle, in a round-pen that was closed by a rope tied between two posts (important detail). I jumped on Québec (well, actually, I sort of hauled myself up, using the fence as a mounting block) and we started walking around. His behaviour was perfect, and I was very pleased with myself and congratulating myself on my skills as a horsewoman (it’s never a good sign…).
It didn’t last. Québec got a bit bored. Maybe he was hungry. Maybe he wanted to go for a stroll. He walked up to the rope. Looked at it carefully. Lowered his head. Uh-oh, I started to think. This doesn’t look good. « Québec! » I shouted. « No! Head up! Head up! » This decided him. He, very quickly, crawled under the rope. I thought he’d remain stuck : he’s a good 1.60m tall, and the rope was maybe 1.20m above the ground. He didn’t. He made it on the other side, demonstrating a suppleness I hadn’t thought him capable of. I didn’t however : I was literally scraped off by the rope and slid down his butt. Yeah, very dignified. Smarting with the humilation, hoping no one had seen me, I ran after my horse who was waiting for me a bit further away, a look of innocence on his face : « You should have ducked, » he seemed to say.
It wasn’t long before I saw the funny side of it (though I was vexed at first). And I turned the incident into five cartoons. These were the first of a series that soon filled a whole sketchbook. Because fortunately (or rather, infortunately), I had been in a number of ridiculous situations while riding or caring for my horse. And I began to wonder, why don’t I turn those cartoons into a book ? And that’s what I did.
Québec features in many of them. A harness racer in his youth, then a lesson-horse in a posh riding school, he was retired last December, because of physical issues, but mainly because of behavioural ones (he was unhappy so he was very agressive – I’m pleased to say that he’s much better now, though he can be a bit grumpy at times!). I’d ridden him for four years and relly got on well with him, so I bought him (something I’d been wanting to do for some time).
Also featured is Bill, a thoroughbred who was very kindly lent to me when I was on holiday on Dartmoor. He is very sweet-tempered but likes to spook at invisible pheasants in the hedges. And also likes to think he’s a racehorse again at times. This book should be dedicated to those two horses! As well as to all the many, many others I rode over the years, several of which will always hold a special place in my heart.
