Frank: There’s this li’l Arab horse on the competition and training circuit that’s getting more attention than me. Now my mother’s got one of these grey things an he’s a right li’l fairy. Won’t jump a stick… fast mind… he’s 25 and like lightening. I can’t keep up with him ….but when I do, I bite his ass. Mother still loves him, baths him, and rides him bareback and bitless…. it’s ridiculous really, phah! Anyway, this grey horse, Masta, is a different kettle of fish. He’s brave and bold and can really jump. Look at what he did today

My mum took him XC jumping once after I’d trod on a pebble and pulled a sickie. So, it looks like he’s coming to Treborough with me for his first BE. This should be fun. His mother’s about the same age as mine and tbh they should be knitting or gardening or sumat but they crazee laydees and although they can barely walk first thing in a morning there’s no stopping them once they get on board their four legged zimmer frames. Anyway the first time I met Masta properly was at the BRC championship jumping competition at the Gower Riding Club field yesterday. We parked up next to one another, shared a blade of grass or two and had a bit of a natter. He’s what we talked about….

Frank: Hey dude…. we’re off to Trebs, has your mother told you? The hotel we got booked on Exmoor is 5 star and they have fresh spring water on tap. It’s bloody great. Long drive though mate but at least I have some company this time and you can share my net. Do you fart a lot? I hope not, it’s a bit confined space for that dude and I fart enough for two.

Masta: Yeh, I did hear… are we traveling in that cattle truck. I heard it broke down last time you went to Exmoor an it took you 11 hours to get there. Wouldn’t like to be stuck with you for that long…I don’t fart much but my mother does so tell your mother no topping and tailing in that lorry.

Frank: Oh, one other thing mate. Don’t try and upstage me. My mother’s got an ego the size of a small planet and my life won’t be worth living if you do anything like win first time out…. you can have my carrots if you break canter in the poncing around bit we do at the beginning…he he!

Masta: Well my mum’s ego is peanut sized as she’s always doing her self down… I try hard to do the right thing… I can’t help it…I’m Crabbet see…. it’s in my genes…

Frank: My mother’s been trying to get me in the right frame….in my last place they used to tie my beak in with reins attached to that tight strap that goes round the belly. But now it seems that this is the wrong way. I’ve spent years going round looking like I’m checking to see if the old chap is still there, now they want me to stick my head in the air. Wish they’d make their freakin minds up. I’ve now gotta work my ass off getting my back legs under… well I tell you that’s bloody hard work mate. I’ve checked out my outline in the mirrors and I think I look like the dog’s. I used to be a winner mate…. now apparently I’m over bent 🙄I’ve been busted and they’re on my case now. It’s a battle of wills tbh and every now and again my mother gets this shit hot rider (Katy Applin) to tutor me in the ways of righteousness. Everytime I curl up she’s on it like sonic… I get a good heeeee shaaaaaa in my ribs for my troubles and I’m almost on my ass looking at the sky…. mother can’t do this though….an it sends her a bit wobbly bonkers….

Frank: so Masta, my new bestie, what you got planned for prep for this next gig in two weeks?

Masta: Oh, we got lots of boring flat work planned…my mother’s just learnt how to get my beak in and thinks her trainer might know how to help your mother get your ass under.

Frank: hmmm…. I’ve heard that one before.

Prep for Trebs

Hey Masta, they had a meeting last night in the pub. I think lists have been made but I bet they’ve forgotten the rots again. There’s never any carrots when we go away….she takes food but never eats any of it. Last time we went away she had to borrow my horse shampoo and towels – she remembered eye liner but forgot my girth. It’s a right palaver getting the lorry ready and mum goes into headless chicken mode trying to squeeze the kitchen sink into the living. What are you like with this travelling mullarky? I’m not that keen truth be told. I had an accident in a trailer years ago now but I haven’t forgotten… it was well scary and I got injured. I didn’t want to go in a trailer ever again… I mean I will, if I really have to, but would really rather not. The lorry’ s slightly better but much as I love my food I just can’t eat….for the entire journey. As soon as i hear the Velcro on those travel boots I feel quite queasy…..

Well, after all the training, planning and preparation neither if us made it to Trebs. I had new shoes on Tues and have been lame ever since. Mastas mother had other problems and had to cancel too. Looks like it wasn’t meant to be for either of us.

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