My name is Jane Monroe and with my partner Felicity Hamilton-Smyth, I own the FeliJan Stables.
I need to give you a little background history. I was orphaned when I was a baby and brought up by my only living relative, my maternal grandmother.
When I was eleven years old I was sent away to a small private boarding school for girls because my grandmother’s health was not good. This was not the best period of my life so I won’t dwell on it, except to say that I did make one very good friend, Zoë Grierson.
It was while I was in my second year at university that my grandmother died, she had been in very poor health ever since my parents were killed and she finally succumbed.
I received a letter from her solicitor asking me to see him and when I left his office I was in such a state that a passer-by asked if she could help. It appeared that not only had my parents left me a considerable amount of money but that my grandmother had left me an extremely large amount also. All of which was in trust until my 25th birthday, although the solicitor did point out that an allowance had been made for my university education and after that no reasonable request for funds would be turned down.
It was while I was at university that I met Felicity (Fliss), we just bumped into one another, literally.
I had been persuaded to ride as ‘patient’ in the annual rag week bed-pushing race. There were eight teams and by the time three-quarters of the race was over my team was out in front by about 10 yards. The other team must have got a second wind because before anyone realised they were level with us. We were neck and neck for a few yards when the wheels locked together and we ended on the floor. Fortunately the mattresses we were sitting on came with us and so there was no damage to life or limb. By the time we had stopped laughing and untangled ourselves the other six teams had passed us, so we trundled in joint last and firm friendships were made.
My friendship with Fliss, the Honourable Felicity Hamilton-Smyth as she was formally known, and who was the daughter of Lord and Lady Wendle of Yorkshire, developed to such an extent that I left my accommodation and moved in to share her flat. I had had a couple of boys with whom I had slept but both left me wondering what all the fuss was about. It was Fliss who made me realise that I was a lesbian. We had been out to the pub for a few drinks and were giggling like a couple of teenagers when I slipped. Fliss caught me and it was when we were in each other’s arms that it happened. We kissed, I was shocked to begin with but almost at once I felt a warm glow flowing all over me. Fliss carried me into her bedroom and taught me things about sex that I don’t think I would ever have known with men. She told me that she had known she was gay from about the age of twelve.
Because I had nowhere to go during the vacation, Fliss invited me to stay with her at her parents' place somewhere in the heart of Yorkshire. She was also going to ‘come out’ about our relationship. I was very nervous about this because although I had nobody to worry about whether I was gay or not, I knew that some people found it very difficult to accept. I queried this with Fliss and she told me that her mother would be fine but she wasn’t too sure about her father. We arrived just before dinner so didn’t have time to unpack, just enough for a quick wash and then into the lion’s den as Fliss put it. Dining with us that evening were Fliss’ mother Lady Fiona Wendle who insisted that I call her Fiona, her brother Rupert and Rupert’s fiancée, Megan, Lord Wendle was abroad and wouldn’t be back for two or three weeks. In the event the family took the news that Fliss was gay in their stride, Fiona said it was about time Fliss owned up, that although she hadn’t known for certain she had guessed a long time ago. Megan grinned over the table and voiced well done, knew you could do it and Rupert, as befits a man looked utterly bewildered by it all. During dinner the conversation naturally was all about Fliss and to a certain extent me. Megan it appeared had known all about Fliss from the time that Fliss herself had realised she didn’t like boys in that way. As she explained when they were children they were like sisters and sisters tell each other everything, well almost, she corrected with a grin. I brought up the subject of Fliss’ father and how would he take the news, Fiona she would e-mail him and explain that he wasn’t to get hot and bothered over it. I was made most welcome and made to feel that I was a member of the family.
During the hols we went around all over the place. I was taken to the stables and taught to ride. I felt that every time we went there Fliss became nervous and agitated, until one day she seemed to take a deep breath and said there was something she wanted me to see. We walked across the yard and to a door that had a pad with numbers instead of a normal lock. Fliss punched in the code, opened the door and we went through.
The sight that greeted me was incredible. There were females and a few males all naked except for harness, bridles and bits. Some were in stalls some were in the yard while yet more were in various paddocks. I had never seen anything so beautiful or erotic in my life. I was literally speechless.
I had been agonising over whether to introduce Jane to my father’s pony girls but I thought if I am going to spend the rest of my life with her then there must be no secrets.
I didn’t dare look at Jane, I desperately wanted her not to think us perverse or abnormal but I also didn’t want to lose her. I busied myself with nothing in particular and tried looking at her out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly I felt her arms around me and heard her say breathlessly, they’re beautiful but how? why?
The relief flooded out of me, I shushed her and called one of the grooms to harness a team. I told Jane that we would take a drive round the estate and I would tell her whatever she wanted to know. We climbed on board the buggy and I gave the command ‘walk on’, as one the six pony girls stepped out at a nice gentle pace. When we were moving I said to Jane, fire away.
The questions came thick and fast. Did they not mind being paraded around naked apart from harness? Were they here just for a period? How do they stand in their hoof boots? How long have you had them? How many are there? These and many other questions tumbled from her in quick succession. I said there had been ponies in my family for generations, the ponies were ponies for life, they were for the most part captured from the wild although there are pony girl auctions from time to time, and some are bred into captivity, my father is abroad with a pony girl called Snowflake who was bred in captivity, she was by Snowman out of White Lady, and she has been taken to the world championships where I’m told she has a good chance of coming in the first three in two events. And they get used to their hoof boots just as we would wearing a pair of stiletto heels. I also pointed out that at the beginning, captured ponies, until they are broken, hate their new life.
As we drove I pointed out the rows of stalls, we have nearly 100 ponies, the hospital, we have two full time vets on the payroll. I explained that although they were in fact qualified doctors, because we call the girls and boys ponies, they are known as vets. I’m not sure she took that in just then. We passed the milking sheds and the blacksmith’s shop where the animals are shod when necessary. I told her that we have a herd of around twenty that we use solely for milking although we can and do milk all of them. There was another question at this time, what do you use their milk for and can they produce enough of it? I explained that we sell the milk round the local villages and we also use it to feed the foals; we hand feed them when they are little and they suckle from the mares when they get older. To get them to produce the milk we inject them to start them lactating and then we inject prolactin into them which increases the milk flow quite dramatically. We went through the paddocks, where some of the ponies were being put through their paces, stopping for a while as Jane was fascinated seeing them high stepping on the lunge. When we returned to the yard Jane got down and examined the mares, first petting them and talking to them as one would with any animal, making friends. She was asking them questions and was surprised when they didn’t answer. I explained that they were not allowed to speak. They could whinny, nod or shake their heads or stamp their feet.
When we got back to the house, we were greeted with the news that my father had e-mailed to say that Snowflake, had won the world championships at both the short and long sprint distances. Of course that caused great excitement not only at the house but throughout the local village as well.
We had to explain to Jane that sprint races were very difficult for the mares, as they have to get up speed immediately from a standing start. There is no time to build up speed as in a longer race.
Jane visited the stable day after day for the next two weeks; she finally came round to saying what was on her mind. Would I agree to open a pony girl stable with her; she was sure that she could get enough of her money released for a reasonable deposit and she would raise a loan for the rest until she reached 25.
Meanwhile plans were put in place for a parade, honouring Snowflake, to take place through the village as soon as my father returned with her. It was agreed that as she would doubtless be tired after the journey we would rig up a float and it would be pulled by a dozen ponies, her dam, White Lady, and her sire Snowman, would be among those ponies.
When the excitement had died down and things returned to normal, we arranged a meeting with my parents and brother, Rupert. They were delighted that we had chosen to go into the business as it were. My father had a few words with Rupert and my mother and they agreed to loan us the money for our start up at a simple interest fee. It was to be over three years by which time Jane would be in control of her own money, I was already in control of mine.
It was also suggested that we buy two or three mares and a stallion to begin with, before we go out in the wilds. The reason for this was that already broken animals would be a calming influence on the feral ones we would be bringing in.
We had found premises that we were interested in, a riding school, the owner wishing to retire. We spent the next few weeks with the architects discussing our plans to renovate the buildings suitable for human ponies. We had to have enough stalls for two-dozen ponies to begin with and we also needed a hospital wing. An area at the back of the stalls had to be developed where the ponies could relieve themselves. The site was sloped slightly towards the centre where a chute dropped down to the main sewer; a grating that could be slid back electronically, alleviating the need for a groom to lift it, covered the chute. All round the edges ran pipes that would eject water to wash the faeces and urine away and then spray disinfectant all over.
We also needed a milking shed, though this wasn’t imperative, as we wouldn’t have enough ponies to make it commercially viable for about a year after opening. We did though consult a firm of engineers that built milking machines for cattle and told them what we wanted, two suction cups on each station, pipes that could take the yield either into a central reservoir or into separate containers for each mare. We also needed a gauge on each pump so that we could measure the milk yield for each mare. They agreed to make one for us but the joint managing directors said they personally would make the machine themselves without any of the workforce being involved. The order would take about six to eight months to complete, which suited us fine.
We were kept busy over the coming months overseeing the builders and contractors but finally after almost one year we had state of the art premises ready for our stock.
During this time we had several interviews with prospective staff, trainers, grooms etc.
My father seconded one of his senior trainers, Ben, to us for six months in order to help not only with training the new ponies but to help with interviewing suitable applicants for the job of trainer.
We interviewed six applicants for the position of trainer, finally settling on Philippa Johnson, she was an assistant trainer at a small stable in Devon. After looking over her CV, we found she said she was good at calming nervous animals we played a rather naughty trick on her. We borrowed a dozen mares and one stallion from my father in order to see how the applicants responded to the animals. The stallion we borrowed, Goliath, is an old softie usually but if he is kept from servicing the mares or is not milked regularly he becomes very grumpy and difficult to handle. We decided to keep him celibate for a few weeks before Philippa was due to be interviewed and let her loose with him. Within 30 seconds she had realised what was wrong with him, she calmed him by rubbing his belly. She asked for the key to his chastity device and a sample bottle to catch the semen in and, with a few deft strokes she had milked him, after that he was as docile as he usually was. We were very impressed with one other applicant, Jonathan Bassett, he admitted that he had no experience with human equines but we liked his easy nature with the mares especially, though he was very good with the stallion also, so we took the unusual step of offering him an assistant trainer position. Both positions along with the grooms were to start two weeks before we officially opened.
On the first morning when the new staff arrived we decided to hold an induction session. This was to acclimatise any member of staff who had not worked with human equines before.
We took them into the stalls where we had stabled a number of my father’s stock for demonstration purposes. The members of staff were told that when a new pony arrives it would be nervous and upset. Nervous because it wouldn’t know what to expect and upset because it had lost it’s freedom. This situation wouldn’t necessarily apply to ponies bought at auction but it could still be the case.
With this in mind it is essential that you treat all new ponies with extra care and attention. They are intelligent and will respond to the right treatment. Now you see before you a number of ponies that have been in my father’s stable for years. We have told them to act as though they were new arrivals to see how you cope. This is not a trap or a test to get you sacked before you’ve even started, but it is important that you know how to deal with the new arrivals.
I went to one of the mares and led her with a bit of a struggle to the front. I told them that this was Topaz; that she had been bought at auction very soon after she was captured, and that she would be their first test.
I asked for a volunteer and after a few moments a hand was tentatively raised. ‘It’s Rebecca, isn’t it?’ The young girl nodded self-consciously and came forward. ‘Right, Rebecca, I want you to imagine that this pony has just arrived and you need to get her into her stall and settled.’
Rebecca walked over to Topaz and took her reins. Topaz immediately started to snort and whinny and back away. Rebecca, to her credit didn’t pull on the reins but went with the pony, talking to her in a calm and gentle voice. Topaz was having none of that. She pulled against the reins harder moving backwards all the time. Rebecca let her go, moving with her until Topaz found she couldn’t go any further as she was against the wall. Rebecca moved quickly up to Topaz and started to stroke her, still talking calmly and gently.
‘You’ve done this before, I grinned.’ ‘No, not with a human pony, but I have got my own four legged pony at home, and I think the same rules apply.’
After that, everyone wanted to have a go. We changed the ponies round so that each pony had a chance to play. They absolutely loved what to them was a game.
We gave everyone a break and then in the afternoon we got down to instructing them how to harness properly, making sure that the straps were tight but not causing discomfort.
Finally, we had a session on hosing down the ponies. The new staff found that it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Making sure that soap didn’t enter the eyes, checking that the pony was completely dry, no damp left in the animal’s crevices.
We continued in that vein for the first week, after which we had our own animals to care for.
Ben’s next priority was to come with us to the auction and assist us with buying the right animals. The auction was for broken in ponies but not fully trained. Ben said that should suit us, as the price wouldn’t be so high as with fully trained animals. While we were driving he outlined some of the things we should look for. We need to see if the pony is alert, usually bursting a paper bag behind it does the trick. We should check the eyes and nose, making sure that there was no discharge coming from either, we should also check that the ears were clean. Ben said that we should always drop the bit from the animals mouth, that way you can see if there are any sores round the mouth and you can get at the teeth and gums more easily; nice pink gums and strong teeth are what is required. Make sure that the belly is firm and smooth, a flabby belly can sometimes mean that the mare has foaled and also check the rump making sure that any whip or crop marks are not excessive, if they are it could mean that the pony is lazy and needs whipping to make her work or the pony has been abused, in either case it’s best to steer well clear. One other point check that the vaginal lips are not chafed through the wearing of a crotch strap. There isn’t anything wrong with fitting a crotch strap provided you keep your pony moisturised.
When we reached the auction we had plenty of time to look over the lots on offer. There were fifteen, three stallions and twelve assorted mares and fillies.
Ben, who had had a look around and had a word with the auctioneer, came back with the news that all the ponies were from the same stable. This particular stable specialised in just getting the animals broken and then selling them on, they go for a fast turnover. He had spotted three female and one male that he thought would do us and pointed them out. They were numbers 1, 7, 10 and 14. We looked them over taking into account Ben’s advice and agreed they all looked good. Jane wandered around checking all the animals on sale and came back with the news that one of those we were interested in seemed to be a little distressed and kept trying to get nearer to her neighbour. Ben saw where she was looking and checked the sale catalogue. Yes you’re right, number 7 and number 8 are sisters. Their names are Judith and Angela Winters and they are 20 and 18 years old respectively. Jane decided there and then that we ought to try to keep them together, I agreed, it did make sense. For some reason the lots were not sold in numerical order and number 8 was left until last. When it was the turn of number 7 to be sold we noticed that number 8 did indeed become quite distressed. Though she had obviously been well broken, as she gave no noticeable sign if you weren’t aware of the problem. In the end we bought all 5 animals. Jane took the bridle reins of number 8 and led her out. She was talking all the time telling her that she would be well looked after and not to worry. All the time Jane was calling the pony, little one. The pony came along quite readily and it was a great pleasure to see the look of delight on both mares’ faces when they realised that they were not to be separated.
We got the new stock loaded on to the horse trailer while Ben was collecting the ownership and registration papers and after making sure that they could not fall and hurt themselves we set off for home.