Diary of a point-to-pointer: Sad loss is a lesson in life for one litttle boy

The devoted audience – age range 7-10 years – sat on their shaggy knee-high ponies waiting with muted excitement. I predicted their combined attention span would last less than five minutes.

Fortunately, I had devised a fun and involving lesson to keep them entertained in the hope they might leave having learnt something. For most it was just a thrill to experience a different discipline. Others took it more seriously with plans to be the next AP McCoy.

The rewarding aspect was their utter belief it was possible. Ultra competitive and boldly eager, all cheered home team mates, fast or slow, first or last. My ears were soon ringing with the sound of their laughter.

At the end of the demonstration came the awards handed out to whoops of encouragement – most stylish position, best turned out, most supportive team member, etc.

All my pupils came to thank me personally afterwards. Who says today's children have no respect and ambition? I have rarely come away so fulfilled after teaching such a rejuvenating bunch of kids. Their future looks bright.

My son Felix is distraught. His favourite bantam, Percy, has laid her last egg. Felix had five bantams housed in the field next to my parents' farm.

Every morning he arrived to let them out and feed them before nursery, proud when he returned grasping their brown eggs for his breakfast. They were the first thing his friends were shown on arrival before the tractor got a look in, so proud was he of his little brood.

Last week I was schooling an ex-racehorse behind the farm and heard a frightful commotion.

The public footpath, which runs past the barns and on toward a sheep farm next door, is popular with local dog walkers. Some stop for a chat to pass the time of day and we have had very little trouble before.

I cantered round the corner to see what the fuss was in time to witness a Labrador running across the field with Percy hanging from his jaws. The dog dropped the limp ball of feathers and bounded after his next terrified victim who darted into the bushes.

The dog's owner stood on the lane, lead in hand, calling to his pet. My father managed to grab it, while hens flew in all directions from the hedge, and prised the second bantam, Duncan, from his grasp.

I sped over to Felix who was sobbing in the field after finding the lifeless Percy.

As a dog lover, I am aware discipline is vitally important to our pets. Surprisingly, the dog owner believed it was his right to let his five-month-old Lab run around freely, rather than under control, near livestock for the first time. He refused to admit responsibility for the dog killing the hen.

Dad put it to him that by refusing to discipline the dog he was putting its future at serious risk. "Next time what if it's a lamb that gets killed, resulting in your dog being shot?"

There was no reasoning with the man. I am sad to say he will not be welcomed back.

We held a funeral for Percy who was buried alongside the numerous pets my brother and I had lost growing up. A harsh but necessary lesson on life for my heartbroken little boy.

Jo Foster trains horses at Brookleigh Farm, Menston.

CW 14/8/10