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Sian's Story

DETERMINED TO WIN!

I was born in the very quiet village of St Clears, Carmarthenshire, West Wales in 1940. My father was the local G.P. and my mother was a vicar’s daughter. I have 2 sisters Jan and Chris then John, my younger brother came along and is 5 years younger than me. Dad was very much part of the development of the N.H.S. and I know only too well how many times he must and still is looking down in sadness at the present service. He received a Fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons as a result of a lecture he delivered in 1958 –The Fourth James Mackenzie Lecture called “Twenty Five Years in Country Practice.”

 

Strengthening my leg muscles by riding Curry bareback

 

Why am I saying all this? He was a brilliant diagnostic and was offered a place in Harley Street but his heart was in the country.

 

Bricky competing at Limerick

 

When I was 8 years old, he knew that I had some condition that was going to affect me for the rest of my life. He told me many years later “that the sun stopped shining in his life”. He knew I was in for a hard time.

We were all sent away to boarding school which I hated because I didn’t want to leave my various ponies-they were my life and I just rode miles every day-anything up to 12 miles to 24!! My parents had no idea where I was but of course it was reasonably safe then for an 8yr old to 13years to go out on their own.

My first pony was Ned who was a little monster. My father bought him from a patient of his from right out in the country. Poor Ned had never seen any traffic and he played up the whole time. Of course I never told Dad just in case he sold him. One day one of his patient’s said “Doctor Bach, that pony isn’t safe for Sian”! It was out so when I returned to boarding school, he was taken to the local horse sale never to be seen again. I was devastated.

Boarding school was hell-I was homesick the whole time. This was coupled with the fact that I was bullied, I suppose. Girls can be pretty cruel. I couldn’t really walk very well and my hands had very little muscles so when playing cards or “jacks” as it was called then I had difficulty in picking up anything-straightaway I was called “monkey fingers” which remained with me throughout my time away. I used to walk down the corridor and all I would hear behind me was girls mocking me and saying ”Sian can’t walk, Sian can’t walk”.

This became unbearable and all I wanted to do was to get back to my pony. I was loaned various ones from Dad’s patients. When I was with them nobody noticed anything wrong with me. I had peace and quiet.

Eventually my sister Jan wrote to Dad and told him something had to be done for me. I was sent to the Battle Hospital, Reading, then on to The John Radcliffe Hospital, Oxford and eventually landed up in the National Hospital for Nervous Diseases in Queen Square. One of Dad’s friends was one of the top neurologist’s there and I was so lucky to have met “D.W.”. He proved to be great inspiration to me. Yes, I had all the various tests done and I was diagnosed with Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease- abbreviated C.M.T.

Dad decided the best option for me was to come home so that he could monitor me and also so that I could ride my pony Julie everyday. I was sent to the local High School which wasn’t going to be any easier for me because most of the girls spoke Welsh and I’m ashamed to say I had never learnt my native language. However at least I was home with Julie. I used to walk down to the stable, 10 minute walk, to feed her and muck her out at 6.30 am, back home-on with my school uniform and caught the bus at 8.20 a.m. This was repeated every night throughout the winter months-rain, sleet, snow made no difference.

When I became 18 I had to decide what I wanted to do. Naturally I wanted to become a vet but it was an impossible task. How could I ever imagine suturing an animal or indeed holding one when I had no muscles? I had spent many school holidays with our local vet, Eric, but I was on the wrong track.

By this time I had outgrown Julie and had upped into horses. I had some super animals. Again I felt when I was astride them nobody knew there was anything wrong with me. I was as good as anyone else. My greatest joy was riding cross-country.

I started work as a clerk with our local vet and I loved it. I had the opportunity of working with animals even though I couldn’t be the nurse. I was there for about 3 years but realised I had to achieve some qualification. I joined “Trust Houses” which was the large hotel group. I was still able to go home on my 48 hours break so was still able to ride. I used to help a farmer friend of mine, Gareth, with his show-jumpers which was tremendous-we used to travel all over the place with about 6 show-jumpers on the lorry. I had prepared them all-nothing was too much work-I loved it or them I should say. I didn’t perform in the ring, although I was well able for it jumping on the farm, but in public-that was different.

Gareth was very busy on the hay one year and he had a youngster which he was schooling for a client. He asked me if I would have “Tambourine” at home for a week to continue schooling him. No problem!!! Little did I know? I was so proud of him I decided to ride him up to show my parents. Little show-off!! Wow, he did not like the yellow gates-he reared right up and over, buried me under him on a recently “tarred” road. I don’t remember a thing; I came round in the ambulance listening to “suspected fractured pelvis and back”. It was me they were talking about. I was lucky just horrendous bruising throughout and that is why I have suffered ever since with my back-self-inflicted so no sympathy!

I was now getting “itchy feet”. I had been over to Ireland a few times to the Dublin Horse Show and I loved the country. Having been working with “Trust Houses” for two years I asked for a transfer to a hotel in Ireland. I was sent to the most super hotel in Kinsale, Co Cork. My gosh, wasn’t I introduced to “how to work but also how to play”! I met up with a super English couple who owned a guest-house and two horses. Sian still enjoyed her riding! I was at the hotel for two seasons although they closed in the winter months so I had to return home to which ever hotel needed a receptionist. Wasn’t I lucky, a grand hotel in Newbury- pictures of racehorses everywhere!

We were all then hit with some very sad news-my parents were going to separate, so I decided there and then to move to Ireland for good. I had met my future husband, Brian, one day racing at Naas races. He had 2 rides that day although only an amateur. I lived and worked for a fantastic family-the Hydes. Sean Hyde’s brother Tim had won the Grand National and there was a mural of him taking each fence all the way round their very impressive hall ceiling. What a wonderful job I had. Hard to call it a job really! I used to drive Sean out to visit various equine patients and then in the afternoon helped as much as I could with the sick animals in the surgery or attend to his books. He was the vet to the local greyhound track, so we used to go racing three nights a week. What a super job and what a super family I lived with. Home from home.

I got married in June 1965. Although our marriage was sadly only going to last 7 years, I have to admit I had a wonderful life. My husband ran an egg producing business and whilst I tried to help as much as I could, even picking up an egg was hard on the old hands. I was still riding but now I had to have special bars on the saddle as my leg muscles were deteriorating. This didn’t stop me looking after and riding our two pt–to-pt horses out and competing in cross country races. One was a 6 mile race with 150 starters going into the first obstacle, an Irish bank! I don’t know when I started feeling tired and wanting to pack up but I suddenly saw the crowd on the bank ahead and I was determined to finish! Came 54th out of the 150 starters and 8th in my class so I was pretty chuffed. In between my various equine activities I had time to produce a son, David and a daughter, Alicia. They have always been the most supporting son and daughter any mother could have and I thank God for them.

 

 

Proving horses are not frightened of pigs

 

 

Eddie negotiating the lake in Holland

 

It was inevitable that the day would come when I had to give up riding. I was competing in hunter trials at Blarney, Co Cork. I had come to the last fence which was a stone wall on to a lane. “Bricky”, my wonderful horse was tired and he just tipped the top of the wall and “out the front door I went”-not even the bars saved me. I landed straight on my head and was knocked out. I don’t remember a thing apart from coming round and having a nasty headache for some considerable time.

Sadly this time culminated with the break up of my marriage. I am not prepared to mention anything about it suffice to admit it was sheer hell leaving Ireland and Dave and Alicia. I will never get over it.

I returned back to Wales to live with my parents. I attended the National Hospital again because I was passing out, dropping implements and various other incidents. I had a brain scan which showed up a dark patch on the left side of my brain. I had to have an angiogram but thank goodness there was no clot found. My darling “D.W.” looked after me and he told me in no uncertain terms that my challenge was over and there was to be no more riding. What? No more horses? No riding? What was I going to do? They were my life?

I had my mare returned from Ireland. I spent a stud season mucking out at the local stud farm in exchange for the very considerable stud fee for their stallion. She was in foal for about 4 months and suddenly she had tetanus as a result of “nicking” herself on a piece of wire. I was devastated because I had injected her against tetanus, but it was prevalent in Herefordshire. What a horrible death, she had, bless her after being such a servant.

That really was the end of my equine life, I thought. I sold my saddle and had oil painted portrait of her which remains in “pride of place” in my sitting room.

I was walking down the road one day and I heard “clip-clop” behind. I turned round and there was this lady driving a superb looking cob. She asked me if I would like a drive. Who was I to refuse? Knowing perfectly well I could never afford “to drive”. I loved it. I took to it like “duck takes to water”! Although I say it myself, I took the reins and I felt I had been driving all my life. I was hooked!

Where do we go from here? I went out and did all the wrong things as a total amateur would do! I bought a pony that had no experience of driving, bad in traffic and had been known to bolt (run away) with its rider? What chance did I have? I had some horrific accidents with her and everybody thought I would lose my nerve and dive to give. Not likely! In many ways I was quite fortunate and again, not realising she had suffered from laminitis (a fever in the feet), she had another attack of it and there was only one cure-to put her down. Yes, I was sad, but that is part of owning ponies/horses-that’s the bad side.

I was told about a Shetland pony who was for sale. Of course Sian wanted all the things he didn’t have. I went and drove him and naturally fell in love with him. What a pony! He took me to my highest achievement in carriage driving-we were a member of the British team to go to the first international competition for disabled whips (to be correct). The fun and success I had with him was unbelievable. Eddie and Sian were known all over the country. My feeling was that if organisers were prepared to put on disabled classes, then they must be supported. There was a story passed around by a great guy who used to help out with his local driving for the disabled group that if there was a competition on the North Pole on Christmas morning, they would have one entry!!!!!

Apart from Eddie, I bought a little grey Section A pony at a horse sale. I had no intention of buying but her beautiful brown eyes were looking at me and when she came in to the ring, I could see a big. fat guy bidding and I knew she was going for meat so up went my hand! He knew there was no point bidding against me so Mystery was mine! Hardly ever been handled in her life but we managed to get her home somehow!

She was a good pony and in her second season of competition she was reserve horse champion of Wales. I had three very successful seasons with her but sadly one day I was driving her back from the beach when she collapsed. I was able to get her out of the trap, with help, and she came round and was taken back to her stable. The vet had no idea what had hit her so it was suggested that I took her up to the veterinary college in Bristol. It was not good news. She had a brain tumour, so that was the end of my darling Mystery.

When I received my insurance money I went up to the Llandovery sales. It was always a sad sale because in the autumn they would cull their ponies for meat. I wandered around and saw nothing that caught my eye and was just about leaving when I saw a little grey pony being unloaded. I followed her to the box but couldn’t get near her she was so frightened. I just took one look at, yet again, her beautiful eyes and that was it? I waited for her to go through the auction ring and bought her for 200 guineas. Auctions are still conducted in guineas.

She was so wild that if I remember correctly it took 6 men to actually load her into my trailer! What had I done? Swn-y-Mor (sound of the sea in Welsh) turned out to be a super pony. She was picked to represent Great Britain as an individual at the second international competition for disabled whips at Hartpury Agricultural College in 1996. It wasn’t our best competition because we were eliminated for something we didn’t do. Although my chef d’equipe put the money on the table to object, it was too late as they were presenting the awards. She was short –listed to the last eight for the first World Championships in Germany 2000. When we arrived at Stow-on-the-Wold and were given all the paper work it was obvious we didn’t have a chance of being picked as “Swna” was too small? It was an honour to have been short listed.

Gradually competitions were becoming harder for me. It would take me 8 hours alone to polish my leather harness and brass not to mention lamps, trap and grey pony? It was tiring driving the car and box to all the competitions all over the country so I quietly hung up my boots, I thought!

Eddie was now 31 and he suddenly went downhill very rapidly. He had cancer of the liver and I had no option but to have him put down. I broke my heart. Dear “Swna” missed her stable companion. Almost a year later to the day, I went up to the stable one morning and “Swna” couldn’t move. I called the vet in immediately who put her on painkillers for a week. She was then taken off them and she couldn’t walk again. Yet another heart rending decision had to be made.

I must say I would have been lost without my dear husband, John, who took care of them each time.

Where was I going from here? I really didn’t want to give up driving

But I couldn’t afford to buy a driving pony ready made. I was mad! I bought an 18 month old Section B pony. Could I manage him? Of course I couldn’t. I wasn’t able to hold him let alone lead him in at night so I contacted a friend of mine, Modris, to see if he would break him to ride and drive. He broke him in to ride but he wouldn’t pull the skin off a rice pudding, let alone pull a trap!! He had to be sold. In the meantime I asked Modris if he knew of a quiet driving pony for sale. He said “well I happen to have” so John and I went up to Swansea to see “I happen to have” and that was it! I hadn’t driven for 3 years and here I was trying out “Py” in the outskirts of Swansea? He was everything I was looking for except the price!!!! He has proved to be worth every penny of that. He is just “ace”-the most perfect pony for a disabled whip. I drive him out on my own as I have so much confidence in him. I nearly lost him about 20 months ago when he had a twisted gut and 8 feet of gut had to be cut away. Yes he was a very poorly boy, a 5% chance of recovery, yet he pulled through thanks to the vets at Cotts Equine Hospital, Narberth and Mary, the owner of the livery stables where I keep him. She was up so many times during the night. The operation was expensive but I have some wonderful friends who helped me financially.

Although I thought I had retired it was obvious I hadn’t. I have had great fun with Py and indeed he has never come out of a competition without a first or second prize. To be fair to him, he hates travelling in a horsebox. I took him to the B.D.S. Wales Show in Carmarthen in August and he won his class and was reserve champion in his section and we won the disabled class as well. Something is telling me to retire on a high once and for all and enjoy just driving him around the beautiful coastal area of Pembrokeshire.

 

 

 

 

Enjoying my 70th birthday with a couple of friends and Py

 


sianlavis@gmail.com