Banning equestrianism would deprive us of a special relationship - Christa Ackroyd

A few years later I could never understand why my dad wouldn’t buy me a pony of my own. It never occurred to me that living in a three bed semi in Bradford with a postage stamp of a garden might not be the best place to care for an equine companion. Nor that we simply couldn’t afford it.

And so I did everything I could to be with them. I mucked out the coalman’s horse just so I could be close. In fact I mucked out half a dozen horses at the riding stables just for the chance to get an extra free lesson at the end of the day.

I continued to ask my dad for a horse for many years. His answer was always the same.. ‘when you are 21’ and I had completely forgotten about his promise as I entered the busy world of work until that significant birthday arrived.

On the big day dad knocked on the door of the little terraced house I rented in Halifax. He and mum came bearing gifts. Among them a china Beswick horse. He hadn’t forgotten. And neither will I.

A few years down the line and I first bought a pony for my children and then a horse for me. And they became not just my joy but my therapy. But my love for them has never failed. And they have never failed me.

After the most stressful of days often covering the most awful of stories I would come home, stick on my old wax jacket and simply go and brush a horse. And relax.

If they were stressed I would talk to them. With one who had suffered a particularly bad start I sat on an upturned bucket reading a book until after days upon days he finally came to me and our long relationship began.

Just the smell of them is comforting. Just being around them is to forget the ills of this world.

And so this weekend there was great excitement when two little ponies joined the gang, both of them slightly elderly but loaned by owners who couldn’t bear to see them sold from pillar to post and so they came to stay for my granddaughters to ride.

It was a wonderful weekend seeing them settle in. But Tinks and Tilly have found a home for life with two little girls who will care for them and in doing so learn the responsibilities and time consuming hard work that come with them.

I know many people reading this may think I sound entitled. And yes it’s true horses are an expensive hobby.

My husband used to say we might as well dig a hole in the muck heap and bury our wages. But I would rather drive around in a seven year old car than be without them.

Horses bring humans great joy. And if you heard the ponies whinnying this weekend when they saw their new little owners bring them an apple for breakfast after just one day you would believe me when I say humans bring horses great pleasure in return.

It’s the pact you make for the privilege of riding them.

Not everyone would agree with me. In fact there is a campaign which was formulated several years ago by animal welfare charity PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) which may even see equestrian sports being banned from the Olympics after Los Angeles in four years time.

And what a shame that would be. Indeed they go further and state all horse riding is not acceptable saying ‘we can connect with horses in our care and have a mutually beneficial relationship with these sensitive animals without climbing on top of them.’

Nonsense. A horse that does not want to be ridden will not be. It’s that simple.

The Olympic committee it seems is wavering, not helped by the appalling video which emerged before the Paris games of dressage rider Charlotte Dujardin whipping a clear terrified horse which led to the end of her career quite rightly, but the end of equestrianism? Of even riding a horse? I do hope not.

It has brought me so much pleasure over the years, even before I was lucky enough to have one of my own.

Twice a year and again the week before Christmas I would walk down the road to my granny’s house every evening for a whole week and again on Saturdays and Sundays.

We would sit down together and watch the showjumping on the television, The Royal International, the Horse of the Year Show and Olympia.

I bet each and every reader can still hum the theme tune and remember the names of the riders who were heroes to a nation. Ted Edgar, Marion Mould, Graham Fletcher, David Broome and of course Harvey Smith known as much for that famous V sign as for his equestrian prowess. I loved them all.

But posh they were not which is another criticism of the sport, that it is elitist. You try telling that to another Yorkshire rider John Whitaker still going in his sixties.

I first interviewed John when at the age of 20 he had been picked to go the Olympics. His horse Ryan’s Son was bought for a few hundred pounds and without being unkind looked more like my milkman’s horse than a thoroughbred.

But boy could he jump and with such a huge heart. John and his brothers came from potato farmers. They had been taught to ride on ponies in their mum’s little riding school. And they took on the world and won.

It is true that competition horses cost a fortune which is why many of them are sponsored but not all of our riders were born with a silver spoon in their mouths and trust me the respect they have for the animals is something to behold. As is the bond they have with them.

But would the argument end if equestrianism was banned? I doubt it.

If horses are pack animals who are better off being left to their own devices in the wild then so too are dogs. So why not ban us from keeping any pets at all?

The responsibility of any owner is to be kind and loving to our animals. And in return they give us their company, their affection and yes allow us in the horse world the privilege of riding on their backs.

And they do so with their ears forward and with mutual enjoyment.

I think also of the wonderful sense of freedom they give hundred of thousands through Riding for the Disabled and trust me when you see, as I did, one of my horses put his head down low for an autistic child to stroke him and lead him into the arena for his lesson you will realise their intelligence, their sensitivity and love of humans is not forced but real.

To all of you who worship horses, you are my kind of people. To all of you who say it is cruel to ride them, you are so so wrong.

To my granddaughters now you have your own ponies, remember you have to be there for them as much as they are there for you. That is the deal we have with them.

It is not about winning gold at the Olympics but the golden moments we share with them. That is their joy. And ours.