Horse racing is something

I know almost nothing about. What little I do know has been gleaned from the novels by Dick Francis. (I still wonder that I have actually read those.)

I avoid horses. They are big. You are a long way off the ground if you sit on the back of a horse. I have only been on the back of a horse very few times in my life.  I do not pretend to understand why other people want to ride horses. 

That said there is a race course in the hills behind me where there is a major race meeting every Easter   - a "jumps" meeting. This is apparently the sort of thing Dick Francis talks about in his novels. I have been to the race course more than once but I have never been there at Easter. I have no desire to go at Easter. The sight of horses jumping over what look like hurdles terrifies me. What if the horses get hurt?

Apparently this is something that other people are worried about as well. There are renewed calls to stop this jump racing altogether. It is the cause of not a little controversy. Livelihoods are at stake. It is an event which brings in millions to the local economy. Is that enough to continue doing it?

My reason for being at the racecourse is because of something I did for many summers during my teens. I went off to what was then called "Crippled Children's Camp". I went as a Guide. It was run by the Girl Guides Association. It wasn't something I ever intended to go to, indeed I knew nothing about it until my Lone Guide Captain told me about it.  The first camp I attended was a life changing experience for me. I played "cricket" for the first time in my life and I  sat on the back of a horse. (Cricket was a camp sport. Sir Donald Bradman was alive back then. He always arranged for the entire Australian cricket team to come and play a cricket match with the children. I'll write more about that some other time.)

The state police also brought up several horses, the "police greys". These wonderful animals are trained to remain calm in the most difficult of circumstances. If you must get on the back of a horse then it should be a police horse first time around. It was the children who were being offered "rides" of course, not the Guides - except for me. M... was a profoundly disabled boy who could not do a thing for himself. He could not even speak. Did he want to be put on the back of a horse and led around. He looked down for "no" but he kept watching and then looking at me. One of the Guiders finally asked, "Would you like to try if Cat went with you?" Yes! 

I wonder if M... knew that I was as terrified by the idea as he was. I had no choice. I wasn't going to deny him the experience. M... was put in front of me so he could rest against me and I had to hold him so he remained upright - after a fashion. We were led slowly around the little enclosure.

And something curious happened. M...relaxed. I felt his breathing change. The police rider leading the horse must have sensed something too because he led the horse around a second time before stopping. We were taken off and I looked at M... as we strapped him back into his wheelchair. His eyes were full of tears but he was grinning. 

We did it together again more than once in following years.  It says a lot for the many hippo-maniacs among the other Guides that they did not envy me. They encouraged me to do it again and again. I never enjoyed the sensation myself but it was worth every moment to have M... enjoying himself. 

I tried explaining this to someone this morning. He was out early with his dog and stopped to ask me what I thought about cancelling jumps racing. No, it isn't the same. I don't want to see horses hurt. I don't care for horse racing. If I like horses it is because of the capacity of some horses to do what that first police horse did for M....