| I was taken out for my 13th(?) birthday on one, the bloke who ran the company was completely dodgy (traveller, used to buy whatever he could get his hands on from our local market) but he also had a side business in driving, hearses and displays etc. The gelding that I got was a huge, hogged out Irish thing, went in a dutch gag and a martingale and still had a mouth like concrete. Turns out it was driven through the week and only hunted on weekends. We got to the halfway field, he offered to swap horses to show me that he wasn't too bad, sat on it for all of 5 minutes and sent it back to the lorries. I think it broke a man's back the following week! Needless to say, I don't think he was welcome with that pack in the future |