Why I hate Horses
In the summer of 1974 I was an Army Apprentice currently doing time at the Royal Signals Training College in Harrogate. Every Wednesday we had to do some sort of organised sporting activity, so purely to avoid running up some muddy mountains called 'The Craggs' on cross-country I put my name down for some horse riding. Never been on a horse in my life, so I had no idea how to get into the saddle never mind drive one.

On getting to the stables the chief horse-botherer sorted us out with the available nags, most of whom looked like they were on valium, about as threatening as an aneamic puppy, absolutely nothing to worry about. "Is this it?" I sneered "I've seen more action at a Grab-A-Granny night". 'OK, Sonny' said Horse Breath 'I'll find a decent ride for you, seeing you're such an accomplished horseman'. He brought this fucking huge thing out, all bollocks and flaring nostrils, and calmly waited for me to back down. Cos I was young and exceptionally stupid I swallowed my fear and climbed on board this black nemisis (using a convenient wooden box.)

After everyone was mounted up one of the grooms stopped to offer a kindly word.....(lying bastard). He gave me a riding crop and said 'If Dobbin gets a bit fiesty, just tap him between the ears with this, let him know who's boss.'

So off we trotted down theis country lane, me bringing up the rear, wondering where the brake was and trying to work out how to steer this half ton of dog-food. Then disaster struck. A little white bread delivery van came up behind us, then started to squeeze past, even though it was blatantly obvious there just wasn't enough room. Dobbin started with the snorting stuff again, then began wheeling round in little circles making this horrible 'neighhhhhhing' noise. "Whooaaaa, Dobbin" says I " Whoooaaa, you fucking daft donkey!" But to no avail. That nag just didn't give a shit. So, remembering the kindly groom's words of advice, I whacked the horse between the ears with the heavy end of the crop. No gentle 'tap', just a mightly thump which should have knocked him into the middle of next week so I could get off this bloody thing. (It seemed to be about 8 feet off the ground, and there was no convenient wooden box to step off on)

The horse took off like a meteorite, ears laid back, nostrils flaring and making this God Awful screaming noise (errrr, the screaming was me). I tried pulling back on the steering ropes, I tried kicking it in the ribs, but Dobbin wasn't having any of that. He reared up on his back legs, turned a couple of circles, then keeled over into a convenient bush, which unhappily happened to be a gorse bush. There I was, pinned down under half a ton of angry horse getting prickled to buggery. Did I get any help? That would be a no. All the other Apprentices pissed themselves laughing while Horse Breath ranted and raved about possible vet bills. Don't worry about me with a possible broken leg lying in a bush getting kicked by this bloody horse, everybody thought it was an absolute hoot. I ended up in the military hospital for a week and got banned for life from the stables. In future I stuck to running round the Craggs on a Wednesday and to this day I've never got on another horse. In my opinion nobody should go near those fucking nags until they've got the brakes and steering sorted out. Nothing but hay-munching death-traps.
(Conundrum, Sun 5 Jun 2005, 2:18, Reply)