When 14 year old me was given Matt as a two year old, I never envisaged he would become such a family pony. He let teenage me career around the country, have a go at anything and everything, yet also allowed me to be slightly responsible. Like the time I escorted 3 under 10s on a sponsored ride – now I think I was mad! He wasn’t a guaranteed red ribbon winner, although he did win a few unexpected prizes against the odds. And I was always guaranteed that he’d stop at a filler jump!
We did shows, sponsored rides, my first dressage competition, galloped up the field bareback numerous times, went to the Boxing Day Meet, the annual Christmas gymkhana, and he let me learn so much with him. Looking back, there’s definitely things that I would have done differently when backing and riding him. But with age comes wisdom. And I hope he doesn’t think ill of me for my mistakes.
When I turned my attention to Otis, Mum started riding Matt more. She had to build her confidence up after years out the saddle, with mainly hacking and flat lessons. It was a rocky ride initially, especially when I moved away and Matt was in less work but still young enough to have silly moments, like charging off across the school, or excessively spooking at a trembling leaf. However, he did settle into a quieter way of life and they now enjoy lots of hacking and sponsored rides.
Then when he was 15 he got the shock of his life coming out of semi retirement, when I had him back for a few months. What started as something to occupy me while Otis was lame, Matt gave me some of my proudest equestrian moments. Flying round sponsored rides, doing more jumps in one ride than he’d done in 5 years, his first hunter trial, scoring 78% in a dressage test, qualifying for the BRC National Championships, winning his arena and overall competition… His bromance with Otis, riding and leading them both for miles for Otis’s rehab…
I was actually quite sad to give him back to Mum, and do miss his cute face and secretly miss his quirky ways – although his separation anxiety can be a real pain in the bum.
Only a couple of months after the pinnacle of his career, Matt fractured his stifle from a kick in the field, which led to six months of box rest, various secondary problems as a result of his confinement, a long rehabilitation programme by Mum, and he thankfully returned to normal work.
Mum continues to enjoy riding him, having lessons, venturing out to local dressage herself, and hacking for miles. And more recently, Matt has taken on an extra role with the third generation.
He quietly stands (so long as he can see other horses) to be groomed from atop the mounting block. He lets a certain little person sit on his back facing forwards, backwards, lying down, hugging his neck, kissing him, and generally be loved. Then he allows himself to become a lead rein pony, doing short, gentle trots, ignoring the giggles and shrieks of laughter. Oh and doesn’t bat an eyelid with the emergency dismounts when a wee is needed!
After last weekend all I’ve heard is “I ride Matt. Matt horse my best friend. I trot! You teach me.” It appears he has a fan!
I’m actually very proud with how adaptable and tolerant Matt has become in his old age (he’s 18 this year. Or possibly 19…), and how he has taken on every challenge we as a family have given him, and how much fun he has given us. To me, he has become the epitome of a family pony, and is firmly part of our family. Roll on the next few years, when I’m sure he’ll have all three generations trotting and cantering around on him!