Fiona has a new horse, called Nadal, and Nadal has his first stalker, called me.
He is gorgeous: four years old, full of life, astonishingly affectionate, light bay, big deep bright eyes.
Sigh. He’s too much for me, clearly, and he’s been getting up to all sorts of mischief, wrecking his box, grinding his teeth, banging his salt lick against the wall for entertainment. He’s such a great addition to the yard, everybody loves, him not just me, but I do make a point of saying hello, er, every time I’m up there.
What a dote. Love him.