In a world where all trouble must have a demonstrable cause, horses pose a problem. There may have been a reason why my ordinarily millpond-calm cob threw me off the other day, but who can tell? A burr under the saddle, a wasp in the tail, a bellyful of fresh grass, a stiffening wind, Aries rising Mars in Sagittarius?
Either way, George provided a kinetic illustration of a theory I had been expounding only days before we parted company in the woods. Regretfully, the irony cannot be felt over the pain in my bruised foot. My unoriginal point had been that, as society’s exposure to animals declines, so does our understanding of the eternal verities they exemplify. For even domesticated animals are wilful. That includes species that are making the best fist of this atomised 21st century of ours. The tabby cat still reminds his live-alone owner that nature is red in tooth and claw every time an eviscerated mouse turns up on the doorstep.
