Memories are strange things and I'm wondering what I should make of these odd experiences I've had recently. Lately, I've been indulging in buying some wonderful old pony books from someone selling up a collection. So my reading has been of these books, set from the 1920s to 1960s.
The first one I picked up was Pony Duet by Nancy Caffrey. As I opened it, I knew the book immediately. When I saw the illustrations, they were familiar but ill remembered. Flicking through the book some came straight back to me and I knew these well. How many hours did I look at illustrations? A memory stirred of the skewbald pony and how the girl had to send her back to her owner at the end, only to find a son of the mare in the trailer that came to collect her. That feeling of joy and delight after the sadness swept over me, the memories had been hitting at me as I read the book, and this was as fresh as when I might have read the book, anytime between 8 and 12 years old. What happened to my copy or was it a library book?
Recently in a waking dream, I remembered taking Swingle to different vet to our usual one in Austria, and how we had trouble finding it down a long lane.
I was uncertain if it was a dream or it actually happened, so sat to try and remember. It slowly came back, how she barked all the time we waited to see the vet. What was the cause? Slowly it came back. We were walking near home and as usual, she was chasing something up a steep hill and lost her balance. She tumbled down like a sack of bricks, landed by us and couldn't move. Dave rushed off to get the car, by the time he got there, she could stand. In hindsight, we could have waited as all she got at the vets was painkillers. Now I can see her tumbling again in my mind's eye as clear as anything, but until now, this was totally forgotten.
Is all this just getting older?
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