The years passed. My fiancé ran off with a blonde bimbo, and I rented the cottage we had been living in. For a while things were really tough. I had no income and my mum had to help out until I found a job. I sold my engagement ring and bought a car, since my fiancé had sold mine because it was registered to his company. He also sold Ebony, and I got a 16-year-old thoroughbred to keep Starr company. He ate me out of house and home, however, consuming a bucket of food per day compared to Starr’s quarter bucket.
I found a home for him, and gave a home to a sweet little retired chestnut pony called Red Arrow – Redro for short. He was rig, and about 26 years old, but he and Starr soon became firm friends. We weathered the tough times together, and Starr was always my rock, the one I could count on, always there for me, with his golden shoulder to cry on. Our bond was amazingly strong by this time, and when we went riding I hardly had to give him an aid.
When Starr was about ten years old, I decided to have his teeth rasped. I’d never done it before, but heard about it and decided to give it a try. As it turned out, Starr didn’t need his teeth rasped, as some horses don’t, if they have a good bite. Nevertheless, I got a farrier in to do it. We did it in the stable, with me holding Starr with a halter.
The farrier wanted to twitch him, but I didn’t fancy the idea. More fool me! When the farrier started rasping Starr’s teeth, I could see immediately that he really didn’t like it. Still, we persevered, but after only a few minutes, Starr went through the roof. Literally! He reared up, lifted me right off my feet as I clung to the halter rope, and smashed through the stable’s asbestos roof.
After that, I let the farrier put a twitch on him, and he finished the tooth rasping without incident, except now I had a big hole in my stable roof!