Horse & Hound – 22 August 2019

Picture

by

Peter

Nixon

GOODNIGHT

It’sgoodtobebackaftera Portuguesesojourn,says

TessaWaugh—althoughhome,puppiesandponiesaren’t

quite in the state in which she remembers leaving them

Post-holiday blues

W

E havejustgotbackfrom

a weekinPortugal,staying

withfriendsintheirhouse

intheAlentejo,eastof

Lisbon.Thehousebelongs

tooneofAdam’sformerhuntsecretariesfrom

theSouthandWestWilts,Clare,whogrew

upinthiswonderfulplaceandstillmanages

tospenda lotoftimethere.Wewerethere

withClare’sdaughter,Amelia,andherfamily,

relishingtheopportunitytohangoutbythe

pool,soakupthesunshineandgenerallydo

verylittleexcepteatanddrink.

Weallgotonlikea houseonfire,which

isn’talwaysthecaseonholidays,andinsome

waysit washomefromhomewithhunting

printsonthewall—Clare’sAnglo-Portuguese

fatherwasa huntingman—andsheep

grazingcloseby.Theonlydifferencebeingthat

Portuguesesheepwearbellsthatmakea lovely

mellowclonkingnoiseastheymeanderabout,

andtheirdietis augmentedwithalltheedible

wastefromthehouse—tomatoskins,melon,

leftoverlettuce—thatwe threw over the fence

throughout the day.

‘Doyoueverfeel

rebukedbyyour

surroundings

returninghomefrom

a trip away?’

D

Oyoueverfeelrebukedbyyour

surroundingswhenyoureturnhome

froma tripaway?Thehousesmells

stale(moreworryingly,perhapsit smellslike

thatallthetime?)andinanimateobjectsemit

a dejectedair.It musthaveraineda lotbecause

thegrasshasgrownlikemad.

Thehoundpuppies,MantleandMargin,

havebeenontherampage,shredding

everythingtheycanfind.Thepaddlingpool

is a saddeflatedringofblueplasticandthere

arediscardedfeedbagsand mangled pieces of

cardboard everywhere.

Rustyhasgoneferalandthreeminutes

intoa hackthrusthisheadintheair,spun

around,metedouta merrylittlebuckand

headedforhome.It couldhavebeenworse.

A fewmonthsago,Marywouldhavefallen

offduringthisdisplay,butthankfullyshestuck

likeglueandmanagedtobringhimtoa halt,

albeitwithsomenervousburbling.

“Don’tworry,I’llridehimfora bit,”

I growled,grabbingthereinswhileRusty

lookedoncalmlyasif tosay,“Giveit your

best,lady.”

A manwitha whitevanlurkingnearour

neighbours’drivewaydaredtolookamused

asI bustledpastonthestumpyponywithmy

faceglowingandlegsconcertinaedintoshort

stirrups.Post-holidaycalmwellandtruly

extinguished.Isit justme,oris therealways

anaudiencewhenyouleastwantone?The

manwasstillgawpingmoronicallyasI pasted

Rustyaroundthefieldingallop.

“He’llprobablyringtheRSPCA,”offered

Alechelpfullywhenwefinallycametoa halt.

Holidaysarelovely, but it’s great to be

home.H&H