by Les Shipp
went in the pot.
Around the same time we had a pet pig. She didn’t know she was a pig and decided to set up home with one of the horses in the stable. The pair of them were comfortable with each other’s company and when the horse was taken out into the dressage arena for training, the pig would follow on and do the dressage test with her best friend.
One of our friends bred miniature schnauzers and she asked if I would like one of her pups as a gift. I thought this was extremely generous as they were worth six hundred dollars. Soon after Artichoke, son of Oberjean and Sweet Pea was delivered to us. He had one deformed ear, hence the gift. Just before this event our daughter had a huge bull mastiff female dog. As she was in the police force the dog gave her security guarding her house. Such a big dog on a town block wasn’t such a good idea as Ruby, the bull mastiff became over protective and a danger to all that entered. As was the case with many of our children’s dogs, Ruby came to live with us.
With all the space in the world to run around in, Ruby became a much loved dog even though we always shut her in a pen whenever outsiders were coming just in case. When tiny Arti arrived, Ruby became very animated and I thought she wanted to kill him. A ninety kilogram and one less than one kilogram wasn’t a good mix I thought. How wrong I was. When Ruby was finally able to get past our guard she gathered up Arti to her and claimed him as her own. Ruby was a great mother and trained her baby well, even down to taking him out into the paddock to do his business. In the first few days I expected the pup to be fretful for his real mother but no he had Ruby to cuddle up to.
One day Arti managed to get himself on top of a large rock in the garden but couldn’t get down. He sat there howling until I rescued him. As I put him down on the ground, Ruby came up to him and with her massive paw gave him such a whack. Arti’s bath time was a worry for Ruby as she could tell he didn’t like the water. As soon as the ordeal was over Ruby would gather him up and across the paddock they would go. It looked comical, this huge mum setting off with her baby that you could hardly see. Arti loved to come with me in the farm truck when I went out with the chain saw to get firewood. Ruby wasn’t keen on the noise of the chainsaw but she would wander out several times to check on her baby.
When Arti was three years old we came home from town one day and found Ruby dead in her favourite resting spot. Not only were we upset but Arti howled for days. I think they were indeed strange bedfellows.
THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING.
Once there was a man destined to become king but he had a major problem. He couldn’t get his mind off what an American divorcee had to offer. He wasn’t able to come to terms with what he was born to do and what he felt compelled to do for himself. Without much thought of the consequences of his position and that of his younger brother, he abdicated and was exiled along with his divorcee out of his homeland.
The younger brother who was shy and stuttered badly and untrained for the position of king didn’t want the job. Unlike his older brother he did have an important trait and that was a great sense of duty. After a struggle within himself he became a much loved king and he and his wife had two daughters. The eldest grew up knowing what her duties and responsibilities were. Her mother was a strong ambitious woman and made sure her daughter was ready when the time came.
The king died at a young age, just after his eldest daughter was married and she had the crown thrust upon her much too soon but with the training and sense of duty she had, she was able to take over the rains. She did a splendid job along with producing four children.
Her eldest child, although brought up to be king one day didn’t appear to be committed, or in many people’s mind, suitable. He had a bit of the uncle in him and became infatuated with a woman who was married. “That’s not on” said the establishment, you must marry a younger woman with child bearing potential and from a suitable family. It’s not a sure thing that the chosen family were all that suitable but he did marry a girl barely out of her childhood. There was no drama in his life about taking over the role of king because his mother lived on and on and no intentions of handing over the job. Perhaps she feared what a disaster he would be. The prince and his wife had two sons, the eldest being coached in the job that one day might be his. Tragically as the prince was mooning after his married love, his young wife decided to make her own life more interesting and had several liaisons, one of which led to her untimely death.
The prince’s real love then unmarried her husband and after a time married her prince. By this time the prince and his now wife were past middle age and he still planned on becoming king one day. “Not on”, Said his mother who steadfastly held on to the crown although she was defiantly in the old age bracket. The prince and his second wife after some time did become accepted to a degree by the people but it was more like an affection you feel for the Muppets or the Flintstones than a royal.
In the meantime the prince’s eldest son grew into a fine, intelligent and sensitive young man who met a beautiful intelligent young girl from a common background at university. They dated on and off for several years and eventually married. The world could see this latest prince would be the right man for the job but would he be given a chance over his father if the job came up?
You could almost hear the queen thinking to herself, I must hang on until my son is too old to want to be king. I could then hand the rains over to my grandson who is perfect for the job.
The young prince has thrown an extra possibility in the ring by producing a son of his own. Now there are three future kings, which one will it be?
A THING OF BEAUTY IS A JOY FOREVER.
This subject covers a host of possibilities, defining beauty being one of them. What beauty is to me might not be to another, but that’s beside the point so I will stick to my view of beauty.
For my fourth birthday, and I can still remember it quite clearly, my family placed into my arms a beautiful fluffy long haired retriever pup. I was smitten with this beautiful creature and she gave me great joy for many years. I have had many dogs since but she was the one who gave me the love of these beautiful creatures.
In my wanderings around the world as a young man I came across many breathtakingly beautiful places and buildings. In quiet moments I am able to transport myself back to those scenes and enjoy them all over again. In this sense their beauty has been with me forever. The South Seas islands, the magical mountains of the European Alps, the magnificent fiords of Norway and many very old beautiful buildings whose age defies belief. In one awesomely huge cathedral in Luxembourg, the beauty of the internal building was designed to create a feeling of peace and devotion. There is also the same beauty in some of Australia’s remote and wild landscapes in which you can lose yourself in their tranquillity.
In some humans who have external beauty it might not match up with what is inside them. If you look at the beauty within and are wise enough to see it there will be a joyful experience. There is an inner beauty in most people if you really look for it. In some, external beauty is a curse and not a blessing. It can lead them down the wrong path and for an externally beautiful person, especially for men, more is expected of them in many ways. So if you find the inner beauty, that person will remain beautiful to you forever, no matter if they become fat and bald.
Beauty is also in the eye of the beholder where art is involved. A beautiful painting or a piece of fine sculpture can give you joy for many years, and often becomes more precious to you as the years pass.
I can’t name just one of these beautiful things that gives me joy forever, but I do name all of them. For they have given me beautiful memories to keep forever.
ONE DAMN TRHING AFTER ANOTHER.
The day started off well enough. I trained my dressage horse for an hour in the arena and then I decided to train my wife’s horse for an hour. She wasn’t able to ride at the time because she was recovering from a heart attack. As it was November the day had become very hot and both horse and rider were very sweaty. I decided to ride a dressage test that
was way beyond any I had competed in. I had put my own saddle on him and I thought afterwards perhaps it wasn’t a good idea as he had his own special saddle that my wife rode in.
I was on the last round of the arena to complete the test without a single mistake when all hell broke loose. The horse although very highly strung had never bucked before but for whatever reason he went completely berserk. The test asked for four flying changes across the arena and on the last change he decided to give me flying changes one after another and the last one comprised a mighty leap into the air and then into a violent buck. I had a brief moment when I thought to myself, “You’re not going to dump me you bastard”. As the bucks became more frantic I lost my grip on the rains. I had a double show bridle on him which has two sets of rains and two bits in his mouth. One set of rains for general guidance and the other to put him in a better frame. The second rain you had to treat very gently as it was severe if used badly. It was just one damn thing after another as I finally regained one set of rains and looked up to see we were heading straight for the fence. I gave the rain one mighty jerk to get his head up from between his front legs and unfortunately it was the delicate rain I