Jill Thorpe: Fears for Oisin, our new pony
It will be a strange one this year at the Great Yorkshire Show and quiet. The little guy has headed off to Paris for the week with school and with work piling up at home, Paul has made the difficult decision to not attend. Our camp site on the Harrogate show field is usually full of friends and family as we set up our own little patch for a week of showing and socialising.
It will be the first year the little guy hasn’t come and his excitement and love of the sheep ring will be sorely missed. He spends many a happy hour perched on the hurdles next to his sheep, chatting to everyone that passes, taking great delight in telling them about his famous farm! I shall miss his big beaming smile and rosy cheeks as he proudly holds one of the big Leicester tups, making sure it’s stood up and showing itself well.
Of course it wouldn’t be normal if we made it to our favourite show on time and without any last minute drama. Unfortunately it happened in the early hours of the morning, a phone call from my Mum to say our new pony, Oísin had become cast in his stable and was in a bad way. The vet got there before I made it over the hill to where my Mum lives and was already administering drugs. I expected the worst; a twisted gut and his appearance made me think my fears were right. Sweat poured down his sides as he gasped for breath, his eyes wide with terror and pain. The vet thankfully remained calm as I stood there facing the reality of possibly losing this magnificent pony that we’d bought from Ireland with so much hope for his potential partnership with the little guy. I was relieved he wasn’t about to witness this, safe and happy in the company of his friends, thankfully unaware of how serious the situation was. The medication kicked in quickly and the panic that filled Oísin’s face started to ease as did his breathing. It proved to be a long, tiring night. Constant checks and reassuring him.
We walked him in the darkness round and round the paddock, hoping that as each hour passed things would be more hopeful. The smell of smoke drifted just above as we continued, another moor fire, another catastrophic blow to the farmers, the wildlife and our beloved uplands. As daylight broke and Oísin started to improve, the fire continued, gathering momentum in the heat and wind. The culprits were known, they’d filmed themselves setting off fireworks on a tinder dry moor and then scarpering when it burst into flames. It remains to be seen what action is taken and what, if any charges are brought against them. Perhaps it will only be taken seriously when someone loses their life, a farmer, a fireman, an innocent bystander. The countless lives that will perish up there in the coming days clearly have little meaning. Birds, voles, deer, mountain hares and of course livestock.
I had a delightful encounter with someone recently, a woman demanding more rights, more access. Apparently all of it, every last field, meadow, river bank and forest should be open access for all. I didn’t engage with her, just walked away. Her last words were
“We need nature”
My reply was simple
“Nature doesn’t need you”