The Horses are Alright
The Adventures of a Horse Trainer
Sarah takes us on her exciting journey as a horse trainer, with all its thrills and spills, exploring avenues and tangents that open up along the way. An honest and surprising account of a life spent working with horses and ponies of whatever shape and size, wherever they might be.
“ …easy to read and impossible to put down. An enlightening, amusing, sometimes sad and thought-provoking read. Sarah has made the horsey world a better place with her insight and observations of human and equine behaviour.”Alison Hughes-Thompson
“Sarah just ‘gets’ horses, instinctively understanding what they are trying to say and making their lives a little better each time”JM
“I read it in one go, roared with laughter in parts and sobbed tears in others. I can’t wait for the next one.”XJ
“Oh Sarah, laughter and tears. Such a beautiful book.”JH
“Having trouble tearing myself away…”KJ
Excerpt from “The Horses are Alright” …
More mischief was to follow when Elaine discovered that I often took Jack and Nettles running with me in the inclosure. She definitely wanted some footage of that and so, dressed in my bright running gear, I led the two ponies over to the inclosure and let them go. The inclosure was remote and well-fenced so the risk of meeting other people or losing the ponies was fairly limited; I could rely on the boys to stay close as we trotted around the tracks. Or so I thought.
I told Elaine what to expect and headed off with the ponies out of sight of her camera, dropping down a hill and round a corner. The idea was that the three of us would suddenly home into view, running side-by-side as we reached the brow of the hill. As I started to jog back towards her, concentrating on my best posture, I realised that neither of the ponies had come with me. Just as I thought about going back to find them, I heard the thunderous sound of galloping hooves approaching me from behind. Should I get out of their way, but which way should I go? I knew I might be about to be flattened on camera and kept a straight course, hoping that neither of them would squash me. As they sped by, one on either side, I felt them brush against me. As they reached Elaine and her expensive camera they came skidding to a stop, tearing long strips out of the grass, before turning round to canter back to me.
“Howzat?!” they seemed to say, looking rather pleased with themselves. “Hilarious,” I whispered. “Thanks for that.”