PART 19 - MY JOURNEY WITH MJ

By May 2025, I was still trying to get my head around the fact that MJ and I were actually doing things again.

We'd been told she'd never jump or compete again.

Then she'd been given another chance after the SI treatment.

We'd jumped again.

We'd competed at combined training.

And now, somehow, I'd entered an unaffiliated 80cm event.

I genuinely never thought I'd be writing that sentence again.

I didn't want to get carried away because I knew that the situation wasn't necessarily permanent. I knew she had DSLD and I knew we had to be sensible, so I was constantly looking for signs that she wasn't comfortable and trying to make sure that I wasn't pushing her too hard.

But at the same time, I was absolutely determined to enjoy every single minute.

If this was going to be our last competition, I wanted to remember it for all the right reasons.

MJ was brilliant from the minute we arrived.

She stood quietly on the lorry while Mum and I walked the course, she stood perfectly while we studded her up and generally behaved as though she'd never been away from competing.

The dressage was incredible.

Then came the showjumping and she was foot perfect.

I was already on cloud nine.

Then we went to warm up for cross country and the horse before us was having a really difficult time getting into the start box, reversing and rearing and generally not wanting to go forward.

So MJ and I gave them a lead.

And I remember thinking afterwards how strange it was that this was the same horse who could completely lose the plot if she saw another horse while we were hacking, yet on a busy cross-country field with horses galloping around her, she was as calm as anything.

She was just doing her job.

We went round brilliantly and finished 2nd in a class of around 25, only missing out on the win because we picked up time faults from going too fast.

And honestly, I have never cared less about not winning something.

It wasn't about the result.

It was about the fact that we were there.

We were doing it again.

I can still remember the journey home in the lorry. I was talking to Mum about how perfect the day had been and how incredibly lucky I felt.

Mum then pointed out that I did realise it had poured with rain for most of the day and that we were both wet through to our pants.

She wasn't wrong!

But I didn't care.

I would have happily been soaking wet for the rest of the journey home.

That day was one of the best days of my life, simply because it was something I had genuinely believed I'd never experience again.

And then, a few weeks later, we went to Gleneagles...