Our New Neigh .... bour

"Where did that horse come from?"

It's a reasonable question, especially at 7:45 when we came back from our morning walk. When we'd gone out it was dark and when we came back there was a horse in the field at the bottom of our garden.

Neighbours are a relative word for us - Lucian lives opposite us and then his son Dominique and Nicole about 400 yards down the road, then Jean and Claudette a bit further along. But really we are tres rurale as the French say. We often have cows in the fields adjoining us - they have much more character than you might imagine - but once you've seen one you've seen them all really. And cows have a nasty habit of escaping into our garden where they are currently the prime suspects for one of our apple trees that seems to have been nibbled.

So a new neighbour is a big thing for us. And horses seem to be quite rare in the area, certainly I've never seen one on the farms next to us. This one (working name "Champion") is a very elegant tan with a blonde mane. He's showing some wear and tear on his flanks - looks like he's spent the summer in a harness somewhere - but Bertrand (Dominique's son) comes down every morning to groom him and dress his worn spots.

Carrots gratefully accepted

Champion

Due to our rather hemitic life at present as we press on with the ceilings I've not got the chance to find out the story (or Champion's real name) from any of the three generations of our neighbours who are involved with the farm. He's enjoying being in the field next to us and loves galloping around the field at full speed - I've never ridden a horse but there's something really majestic about a horse in full flow.