I’m not usually a big fan of introductions. I’d rather skip straight to the part where my blogs are already well established and maybe even with a readership…(!), where the only greeting needed is like one you’d give an old friend.

My name is Lucy Churches. I have been riding since I was 10 years old, and I started in the riding school. I was an average student. Solid enough that the instructors could put me on most of the working ponies without having to worry about who they’d paired me with, but I was never deemed good enough to ride the “special” horses that some of my friends could; the ex eventers, hunters and the few snazzy working liveries that were occasionally used in lessons.

In fairness, the instructors probably had it right. I was a good rider, but a fall early on had knocked my confidence, my stability in the saddle had suffered and I never really had the drive to compete in any of the available English disciplines at a young age anyway. But I was passionate, I turned up every week for my pony club lessons, and later on, you could find me at the yard every evening of the week and almost all weekend.

When I was 13, I met my first horse. He had been brought to the yard by a livery client who already had a horse stabled there; a gorgeous hunter/eventer type big chestnut boy called Claude. She was loaning this second horse from a lady who no longer had time for him. He was 16hh, a bay Thoroughbred with a white star, called Tayo. With a history on the racetrack and in stunt work, he was 16 years old, underweight and blind in one eye. Hardly the “snazziest” looking horse on the yard. I couldn’t have cared tuppence. That one eye had the depth of a hundred. I was in love.

I came to see him every day. Feeding him carrots over the stable door and stroking his nose like every besotted horse girl from every book. The lady who owned him must have noticed my affection for him and asked if I would like to help bring him back into work. I jumped at the opportunity, and started walking him out in hand in the woods behind the yard, and free schooling him in the round pen. Without a clue what I was doing of course. But bless his old soul, he ran round in circles for me and patiently waited for someone to come along and point me in a better direction.

That someone was a young Sean Coleman (now a 3* Parelli Professional), who had already introduced some of the other riders to Parelli Natural Horsemanship. I had heard whispers on the yard about this newfangled program, and I was eager to learn.

Pretty soon, I was hooked. Parelli opened the door for me to start the journey towards what I’d always wanted; to be able to communicate with a horse on their level. That moment of partnership and harmony when you feel that you and this furry four legged animal understand each other, and can be whatever you are together. To be able to build a relationship like that felt like living in a real life fantasy. I loved it.

Tayo was an incredible partner. Kind, forgiving, and patient as I fumbled and struggled and dealt with the frustrations of being a beginner. He is, I think, the oldest soul I have ever met, and when he died 2 years later – the result of a lifetime of physical stress and chronic stomach ulcers – I was utterly heartbroken.

I’d experienced my fair share of loss in life, but even so, there was something very profound for me in losing that first love, and my first equine best friend. There are so many amazing stories that can be told about him and our time together; now that this blog exists I am sure that they will be written, but for now I must stay on track.

My light at the end of the tunnel came from the lovely Jo Bates, who very generously asked if I would like to play with her rather brilliant Tillie, and to help keep her fit; she had a penchant for good grass and was a little eensy weensy smidgen overweight…!

Well, this was a very different kind of horse! Smart as a button, quick-witted, and clocked me from right across the yard. She knew more than me and boy did she know it too! When I got it right it was like magic. She had lightness, skill and style, and we could pull off moves that made me feel like a pro! But when I got it wrong she made no allowances. She had a look she would give me, the kind of look I didn’t know horses could give. Some of you have horses like this I bet. You know this look. From pro to no in less than 10 seconds, and my magic would grind to a halt.