Forrest has settled in beautifully. I couldn’t ask for (so far!!) an easier ‘let down’ completely devoid of any drama.

My modest facility is set up with two fields, one comprised of 5 acres, the other, 10, with two small paddocks that border the larger. A further deep stand of woods surrounds all of this. For Forrest’s first turn out, I chose the smallest of the paddocks and carefully led him out, booted up, chain over his nose (as that’s what he is used to and as I don’t know much about him, seemed the safest option) and led him from his stall to a small pile of timothy I had deposited to hopefully keep his mind on leisurely munching and not turning cartwheels as soon as I unclipped the lead.

He was eager to investigate his new digs and quite taken aback by the size of the field on the other side of the fence and taking keen note of one of the horses already turned out to graze? some distance away, he walked the fence line a couple of times then settled to eat.

I leaned against the fence, elbows resting on the top rail, arms crossed, chin resting on my wrists and watched him with admiration. It is such a risk to select a horse from video, alone, and I was profoundly grateful (and truth be told, relieved) that he was as nice as I had hoped.

Forrest lifted his finely shaped head after a bit, mane and forelock filligreed in the weak, winter, sun and walked a few paces towards me. Then the inevitable: a rather girlish squeal was emitted from his throat and he gave two enormous leaps across the paddock before returning to his pile of hay.

I say, rather a free shoulder, don’t you think?