My Year With a Horse

Hazel Southam

Description

Hazel had been scared of horses for all her life, and an earlier attempt to overcome her fear had ended in failure. She was still overcoming fear in other areas, travelling around the world with her job, reporting on areas recovering from war, famine, disease and catastrophe. And eventually she took up riding again - only to face bigger fears, when illness struck her. Even worse, her father's dementia grew so bad that her mother had a heart attack and Hazel had to put her father into a home. As illness threatened to derail her career, and family tragedy looked likely to break her heart, she was loaned a big old horse called Duke. He stood far taller than her at every point, and she was afraid. Yet somehow, as she rode him through the Hampshire countryside, she found solace and healing. Gradually her fears began to subside.

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Memoir
• Riding

Informations

• Publié par: Lion Hudson
• Date de parution: 22 juillet 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780745968506
• Langue: English

Extrait

An interesting exploration of how people come to understand a relationship with horses. Ms Southam seems to have an impressive understanding of the nature of these peaceful four-legged creatures. I am impressed with her intellectual approach to better understanding her relationship with these animals that she obviously admires. All too often, we humans tend to apply the human attributes of force and demand when communication and compromise is far more effective. Ms Southam seems to clearly understand the flight animal.
Monty Roberts, the real horse whisperer
A moving and lovely book, My Year with a Horse isn t just about the relationship between humans and horses, it s actually about the most important relationship we have in our life, our relationship with ourselves. I know nothing about horses, but I enjoyed reading this honest and open account, a charming story.
Rev Kate Bottley, Gogglebox
I commend this book, which really showcases how horses can change people s lives. However, this story is not only about a great steed; I admire Hazel for her courage in turning a previous fear into what is sure to be a life-long passion. Her journey is something we can all learn from.
Clark Glasgow, show-jumper
This is a beautiful, funny, inspiring and sometimes heart-breaking book about falling in love with a horse. It s also one of the best books about being a human that I ve read in a very long time. Hazel Southam is a determined, compassionate journalist who cares deeply about other people, and it shows. Her account of a year learning to ride and getting to know a massive horse called Duke is also a story about trying to make a living, overcoming illness and having to cope with the dementia and decline of parents you love so much it hurts. You ll want to laugh, you ll want to cry and by the end of this wise, wonderful book, you ll want to go out and dare to do something different - like getting on a horse that scares you stiff - just to insist, with Hazel, that life may be bumpy but there s still joy to be found in the saddle.
Cole Moreton, journalist and author of Is God Still an Englishman?
A life-enhancing and beautifully told story of learning to ride in the English countryside, in-between travelling around the world as a foreign correspondent. Hazel is a journalist who, through her love of her horse Duke, learns to confront fear as she reports faithfully from the front line, and at the same time meets deep-rooted caring commitments in her family at home. Then she must deal with her own illness. This is about faith, hope, and the conviction, as she herself concludes, that anything is possible with love.
Ruth Gledhill, Contributing Editor, Christian Today
I read this book in one sitting! Hazel writes with real feeling about love and loss. The harrowing decisions she has to make regarding her father and the tenderness she expresses towards her mother are deeply moving. Her description of the countryside when out hacking on her beloved Duke are wonderfully lyrical. This is a compassionate story about relationships, love, and loss.
Eleanor Stewart, author of Kicking the Habit and A Voyage Round my Mother
The decisions Hazel Southam makes about her father s care leave her feeling duplicitous and selfish; the brave face she puts on for her mother and friends makes her feel like a phoney; her demanding and precarious employment as a freelance journalist leaves her shell-shocked and exhausted. Then, just when you think her plate cannot take on another spoonful, she is hit with a life-threatening illness. Yes, this is a memoir about a horse, but it is also a tender ode to Southam s parents, as well as a case study about the resilience of the human (and equine) spirit. With humour and affection, Southam shows how a year fraught with emotional pain and physical illness can still be onsidered a good year .
Jane Christmas, author of And Then There Were Nuns

Text copyright 2016 Hazel Southam This edition copyright 2016 Lion Hudson
The right of Hazel Southam to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Lion Books an imprint of Lion Hudson plc Wilkinson House, Jordan Hill Road, Oxford OX2 8DR, England www.lionhudson.com/lion
ISBN 978 0 7459 6849 0 e-ISBN 978 0 7459 6850 6
First edition 2016
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Cover image copyright Evgeny555/istock; Lion Hudson
For Duke, with heartfelt thanks
Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

What Happened Next

Postscript

Acknowledgments

There are many people to thank, of course. Although he can t read, Duke gets the biggest thanks. He s not a famous horse that wins expensive races or international competitions. You won t see him on the front of a magazine. He s not a household name - although once, when I rang to pitch a news story to a chum at The Daily Telegraph , he said, Hi Hazel; how s Duke? So you can infer from that episode that either I talk about Duke too much, or the man at The Telegraph is very kind. Or both. Duke s not the most handsome horse you ll ever meet, I m told, though clearly I would disagree with this. Duke transformed my life and I will be forever grateful to him. I hope he knows he is loved.
My thanks also go to Flick Homden and Tracey Wells, who at the time this all happened were instructors at the Hampshire Riding Therapy Centre. Their encouragement got me onto Duke s back in the first place, and kept me there. Some of the happiest moments of my life have been spent hacking round the woods near the stables with Flick. And thanks to the whole team at the riding centre for their patience, encouragement, and cheeriness.
I would also like to thank my horse-riding pals and their mounts: Anne-Marie Underwood (Lady), Debbie Gallagher (Jack), Jo Cook (Hippo), Kirsten Philpott (Blue Eyes), Kirsty Hobson (Spider), Paula and Alan Coleman (Chocci and Spike), and Michelle Cross (Rab). They ve been tremendous company and very patient.
Thanks are also due to my other dear friends who have had to put up with stories of horse riding, when they couldn t care less about anything equine. They must have thought their old non-horsey friend had been kidnapped and a lookalike put in her place. You know who you are. Thank you. Chief among this group is Clare Kendall, my friend and photographer colleague. As we fly round the world together reporting on who-knows-what, she bears the brunt of most of the stories and can t escape, because, on a plane, you truly are a captive audience. Thanks for listening, Clare.
My final thanks go to my good friend Phil Comer for his support in this mad caper, despite his medical experience telling him that horse riding was A Very Bad Idea; and to my mother, Mary Southam, for not only letting me write this book but encouraging me all the way. Thank you both. Two finer people it is hard to imagine.
Professional and undying thanks go to the team at Lion Hudson, particularly my editor, Ali Hull. She was like a dog with a bone once she d heard the idea for this book, and simply insisted that I write it, and kept on insisting until I did.
Thanks also to you, for reading this far. I hope you enjoy this book, and that it gives you some laughs along the way. But if you too are having a tough year, I trust that it gives you some hope for light at the end of a very long tunnel. It will come. The year is made up of seasons, and so is life.
Prologue

I didn t expect to have my life changed by a horse. I was scared of horses and, consequently, wanted nothing to do with them. But, following a New Year s resolution to overcome that fear, I ended up renting a big, trustworthy, middle-aged horse called Duke. He d spent his life giving rides and joy to disabled adults and children at the Hampshire Riding Therapy Centre just outside Winchester. So he was just what I was looking for (although I didn t know that I was looking for it): reassuring, steady, and reliable. At first, I wasn t what he was looking for at all, as my nerves jangled and my confidence lagged. But in the end, over five happy years, I like to think that I became what he was looking for too: someone who loved and cared about him, tended to his needs, bought him warm rugs and tasty carrots, took him out for delightful rides in the woods, and didn t mind how much grass he ate when he was meant to be doing something else.
Our mini-adventures through Hampshire s ancient woodlands became, strangely, the highlight of my week. So, in one sense, this is a book written in profound thankfulness to Duke. But it is also the story of a year: of how making a decision to reach out beyond fear led, slowly and incrementally, to happiness, peace, and comfort. We Britons love animals, so if you ve ever stroked a cat or patted a dog and felt better afterwards, you ll know what this feels like.
If you like horses, I hope you will enjoy this. But if you don t like them, don t worry. This is about far, far more than a horse. This is the story of a pivotal year in our family: as the Queen might say, our annus horribilis . Everyone has shockingly awful years, and this was one of ours. Remarkably, it was a horse that helped me through those twelve months. This was a surprise, as I was (I had thought) irredeemably frightened of horses. Above all else, this is a story of hope, because we can all sometimes feel that crying is the end of the story. But it isn t. All tears get wiped away in the end.
January

I open half an eye and groan. It is New Year