CHAPTER 7

For two whole weeks the sun shone on Conker as he quickly became a good strong foal. I had plenty of milk and he would suckle me gently every half hour or so. He soon learned to nibble the rich fine grasses and I taught him to seek out the best and most nourishing, just as my mother had done for me up in the mountains.

"He's going to be a big pony," said Mr. Hughes. "Look at his legs, they'll always be that size, it's the rest of him that will grow and fill out. He'll certainly make 14.2 hands."

Indeed Conker was a fine sight. He shone like burnished silk and his coat was fine like his father's. He was friendly and, as from the second day, he had been handled by Mike and boys and a halter put over his head. I didn't mind and was proud to be his mother. We were all one big family.

Being that the field was in the centre of the village many people looked over the gate to admire us both. Like all mothers I was in good shape myself and I would bring him over to the gate to show him off.

"How can we ride Twilight now she's got Conker with her all the time?" asked the boys. "You can't except in the field," said Mike. "And that's the way it will be for quite a while, you'll have to be patient this Summer."

Suddenly Mike had an idea. "How would it be if later on we got company for Conker - say when he's about three months old and can be left without suckling for an hour or two. Let's ask Mr. Hughes!"

"By the Summer holidays he'll be able to be left for a while," said Mr. Hughes. If I were you, I'd look for a nice quiet Jenny Donkey to keep him company. Horses and ponies get on well with donkeys."

So the search began for a companion for me and Conker. One day in July when Mike went to Carmarthen Mart to buy some calves, he met a gentleman who had a nice Fresian cow for sale. It was a seventh carver and had a Hereford cross Fresian heifer calf.

"I'll sell you the cow and calf for £65," he said. "You can buy another calf to go with her and she'll rear the two for you. She's an old quiet cow and you'll have no trouble with her. She'll rear the two for you and then two more before she calves again."

"I'm not really looking for a cow," said Mike. "I'm looking for a good quiet Jenny donkey to keep my mare and foal company."

"Now then," said the gentleman, whose name was Mr. Lewis. "How's this for a deal, I've got a quite beautifully Jenny, as quiet as a lamb. She can be ridden with saddle and bridle and she's in foal - due in September. I'll tell you what, give me £85 for the cow and calf plus the donkey, and for £100 I'll get you another calf as well. Wait a minute, I'll also deliver the lot to your home tonight."

"Done," said Mike, and shook Mr. Lewis's hand. He paid him the money there and then in cash and Mr. Lewis gave him a pound back 'for luck'.

That evening around seven o'clock, the cattle lorry arrived. Out came the cow and calves, which were put in the shed overnight and then out came Jenny the donkey complete with saddle and bridle.

"Put her in with the mare and foal right now," said Mr. Lewis, "and watch."

Jenny was brought into my field. I looked up as she stood quite still, ears back and then she held up her head and brayed. He Haw! He Haw! He Haw! "There you are," said Mr. Lewis, "she likes it here!" Jenny walked over to me and Conker and stood by us for a minute or so before starting to graze.

"You'll have no trouble with her," said Mr. Lewis. "She's better than a guard dog. Give her a crust of bread now and again and be kind to her. She'll stay with you forever!"

Jenny was with us for 16 years, and in that time had 15 baby donkeys and everyone of them a male or 'Jack' as we like to call them. She was the most faithful creature you could ever wish to own and, as you will learn, she was not only highly intelligent, but almost human.

When the schools broke up on July 15 that year, Conker was getting on for over three months of age. He had doubled in size, was big built, broad of chest and strong of limb. He had done well in an almost perfect Spring and Summer. We had now been moved back over the road into our 'Court Vale' field, which bordered the little stream known as the River Ritec.

With Jenny as company it was possible to leave Conker for an hour or two while I took the boys on a ride around the lanes and at the same time gave a few young visitors a walk around the village being led by Mike, for they had no experience at all of ponies.

I soon got to know the circuit, which was from our house to the bottom end of the village up the main street to the Parsonage Farm, then right down past the Sun Inn and right again for 100 yards before turning left and then down the hill past the shop and so home.

The visitors' children came mainly from the London area and the Home Counties, such as Surrey and Middlesex, and were keen to find out all about farm life and the animals.

Although Court Vale was only a smallholding Mike and Del had made it into a real little farm. We had vegetables, laying hens, ducks and geese, goats, calves and store cattle as well as myself, Conker and Jenny.

All our animals were friendly and the children could touch and stroke them. They collected the eggs from the nesting boxes in the hen houses and helped Mike to dig potatoes, pick peas and beans and all sorts of vegetables for their meals.

They really enjoyed their holidays and the same ones came back year after year. One lady, her husband and daughter came for years running and used to call our place 'Enid Blyton's Farm'. Even now, that once little girl, now 37 years of age, comes to see me every year for I was her first ever pony ride and I have never forgotten her.

I was in foal again and the father was once again 'Flight'. This time we could expect the foal about the end of May or very early June and I was feeling very happy and on top of the world.

One day while I was out giving rides, Conker and Jenny were together in the field. Now Conker was very inquisitive and would search along the hedgerows, nosing into everything.

He came across a sweet syrupy liquid coming out of the trunk of an old dead elm tree. It was honey from a nest of wild bees. He moved further up and pulled away a branch leading to the entrance of the nest. A whole swarm of angry bees came out and stung him badly on the nose and around his eyes. He panicked and ran blindly into a thicket of blackberries and his leg got caught in an old cart wheel.

Jenny, hearing the nose and commotion ran he-hawing to the gate by the house. Out came Mike who could see what had happened.

Taking the halter he ran over and eased Conker's right front leg from the old wheel. It was bruised but not damaged. His face was swollen badly and his eyes were closed due to the bee stings. At first Mike did not realise what had caused this, but following the tacks through the bushes they finished at the old elm tree where the bees were humming angrily around the hole made by Conker.

He led him into our stable and rang the vet, who arrived within the hour. He gave Conker an injection and advised Mike to bathe his face with weak ammonia solution to neutralise the stings, but to be careful that the ammonia did not get into his eyes.

"Keep him and Twilight in over night and by tomorrow he'll be fine," said the vet. "And give old Jenny a piece of cake, for if she hadn't warned you, Conker could have struggled and broken his leg!"

Relieved, we patted Jenny and fed her a huge slice of fruit cake, which was her favourite. All our visitors came to sympathise with Conker, who was by now none the worse for his experience and by the following morning was his usual self.