On the 27.11.22 I got out for the first time this hunting season. This is huge in my world. Coincidently almost exactly a year since I last loaded Toby up and headed off. And a year since practically every club in the country was at a standstill due to insurance. It’s not easy keeping him at home. He is 16 this year, and I’m only too conscious with each passing year neither of us is getting any younger. Also, it’s all he knows, yes, I admit I haven’t done any other discipline with him. Even though in my eyes he would excel in absolutely everything. So it’s hard having nothing to aim at. In years gone by, it would start with getting fit for the opening meet or first day out. Then you would set your sights on St. Stephen’s day. Building on the fitness and having them well tuned up. Following Christmas one of our “big meets” was held in late January (see one of my previous articles titled “the big one”) So there would always be something to aim for until horses went out for their summer break. I know he misses getting out as I do. Over the years at this time of year, I have canceled plans, left Christmas parties early, literally disappeared over the weekends only seen in the distance on horseback – being held together with muscle rub & kinesiology tape (me not the horse!). I literally feel like I am missing a vital part of myself once the weather changes and becomes autumnal, and we remain stuck at home.  

I had been “working” on his fitness for a while after his summer off. It was mostly him jogging with his head up in the air- he does not do “slow” work. It’s not for him. I was getting the itch to get back out, and I know he was. Despite his semi feral–ness I knew hacking out at home was boring him. 

I had been on the lookout for something close for a few weeks, a fun–ride, hunt canter , anything just to get back into the swing of things so to speak. When I saw a hunt advertised close-ish I was rearing for road. 

I was still on the fence however the day before; I made the agreement with myself I would see how he felt and then decide. He felt great of course. We popped a handy drain at home, had a good stretch so my mind was made up. 

I gave him a very quick wash, and he absolutely KNEW he was heading off somewhere. Now one of my massive reservations, I would not be going with my “usual” club (unfortunately sidelined due to insurance). For some reason this was at the forefront of my mind. I felt like I was jumping ship, taking sides. How would these new people feel about a scruffy-looking Connemara and equally scruffy looking jockey wearing a hand-me-down jacket and boots, let’s call a spade a spade!? I knew for Toby’s sake we needed a day out and I had to put whatever dramatic ideas I had to one side and just go with it. 

Now I used to pack the jeep for two horses and riders (sometimes more) the evening prior to a hunt. It was second nature. For some reason, I left it until Sunday morning. I knew where everything was, but when I was checking off my checklist (mental checklist) I started to regret that decision. I also forget the worry that comes with taking equines for a day out. “Has he eaten enough?” “Will I bring a hay net?” “No, he’s an awkward so and so and refuses to eat when in transit” “Will I bring both rugs just in case?” This was literally a conversation that went on in my head, and I made myself get a grip after both rugs’ question!

I found my hunting jacket in the utility room, still mud splatted from last year. I had a vague recollection of hanging it up but being too depressed at the prospect of no hunting for the rest of the season to clean it. I quickly gave it a rub of a clothes brush. Once it was clean for the start of the day I didn’t mind. 

I have the luxury I must say of stables literally in the backyard. Think about being able to feed the horses in my pajamas and coming back inside to get dressed and feed myself. But with the nerves on Sunday morning – breakfast didn’t feel like a good idea. Why though?! I’ve been at this long enough, yet the butterflies in my stomach were having a jolly old time. In an attempt to change my frame of mind, I told myself it was excitement, and the body/mind sometimes can’t tell the difference. That helped for a while. 

Eventually after what felt like a simultaneous long and short morning we were on the road. For the first time also I was trying out the premier performance calming cookies. We were letting one horse at home; she would be safe in the stable but would neigh and snort for the day. So I made the executive decision to try some calming cookies. On a side note, I would recommend them for something like this. She didn’t seem to care while we were loading up, and I was told she was largely un-bothered for most of the day. 

Before we left, I attempted to tidy Toby’s thick and unruly Connemara mane. I have only myself to blame. I don’t have the heart to pull or cut it up short. I think the more “natural” look suits him! By the time we reached our destination, it looked more like he was just pulled out of the field or off the side of a mountain. He was excited and non-stop shook the trailer, so my poor attempt at platting stood no chance.  

Finally, we are getting to the more interesting part of the story. Neither of us has seen hounds for an age, to be honest I was expecting a party piece from him once he heard the bugle. But he, in an odd mood, seemed to be happy enough to take it all in. I found a few familiar faces I could settle in beside until another worry popped into my head–both Toby and I like to stay up the front. Which is a big “No – no” when you are only a visitor to a club. My idea was to stay as far back in the pack of horses as possible and at least if he took a notion to bolt, we would still hopefully only be middle ways in the field. To be fair to him, he was very well behaved. There was some jogging sideways, but I would be worried if he didn’t do that at this stage!

This hunt was a “drag hunt.” Meaning a pre-laid trail of a scent was put down prior to the hounds and horses. The hounds would then follow this scent – drag hunting is a “copy” of live hunting – where an actual fox would be followed. I must say on the subject of hounds – they were exceptionally well behaved. I have been at other drag hunts where the hounds don’t seem to stay within a pack and could be found anywhere! Not ideal when a rouge hound pops out of a ditch and runs under the horses’ legs. But these hounds always stayed up at the front of the field with the field master, and he was quick to notice if one was not paying attention. There was a young hound, I’m still not sure if it was called “Chloe” or “Joey” – poor Chloe/Joey was very enthusiastic during the day and constantly had to be reminded to stay with the pack. This hunt also divides the hunt into different runs. So the hounds would be left run after the drag/scent, the whole field would follow along for a few minutes. However, there would be breaks between these “runs.” Personally, I am used to more of a consistent pace–so I found it a little bit “stop / start” but overall very enjoyable. We got some really nice runs, and the weather held; land was fairly wet in places. As to be expected with all the rain recently. Landowners and farmers are so appreciated, we would be going nowhere without them! However, the heavens absolutely OPENED towards the end of the day. Man and beast were soaked! Such are the joys. Again I wondered if I was well to have pined over missing days like this. One side of my face felt numb, and I think my jods. Became see – through. My gloves also made a very poor effort at keeping my hands dry, so the reins were constantly slipping through my fingers. Lovely. 

In my infinite wisdom, I left the waterproof jacket at home – every layer of clothes was soaked through. I won’t lie when I say I was glad to arrive back in the village. I pulled off my jacket – which I think weighed more than myself at this stage, I just couldn’t bear it on anymore. I quickly put Toby’s sweat rug on him for the journey home. Even though I was tempted to wrap it around myself. 

Overall, I was very happy with my day out. I know both our fitness levels need to be improved but that’s only a small problem. I’m sure I have said it before and I will say it again. There really is nothing like a good day out. It does both annoy and sadden me when I see how much has changed, mostly due to insurance. If I could “Click my fingers and change one thing in the equine industry” I think writing this insurance would definitely be one of the first items on my list.