Mission aborted

Well, it's Easter Monday Bank Holiday afternoon, and I am not after all on my way to Fakenham. Readers of yesterday's chapter might have concluded that, after worrying about Anis' frailties for what seems like forever, I'd be so protective of her that I'd find a way to avoid running her. That is indeed what I have done, but you can be assured that I have done so for the best of reasons: she has a sore foot. As you might have worked out, I was worrying myself sick about her. This wasn't solely because I worry about her in general, but more specifically because she had developed some heat in her foot over the weekend - and, more worryingly, in the foot of a leg in which she had previously had a pastern (ie ankle) problem. That was an obvious cause for concern. However, when I rode her yesterday morning she was completely sound and she cantered very pleasingly, so I couldn't see any reason not to run her on the basis of how she had done her work. But the fact remained that the heat indicated a cause for concern. Prudence, therefore, duly (inevitably!) got the upper hand, and this morning I decided not to risk her - and then shortly afterwards found that decision to have been fully vindicated when our excellent vet David Dugdale appeared and diagnosed a tiny cut on her sole. One can only presume that she must have trodden on a stone at exercise on Saturday, but one can understand why she would have been sound at exercise yesterday, because trotting on the soft surface of the Heath, and then cantering on Side Hill's polytrack, would have placed no pressure on the sole. However, it would clearly have been wrong to run her with a sore foot, so she is now, instead of girding her loins at Fakenham, standing in her stable, minus one shoe and with one bandaged foot, blissfully unaware that she might have made her debut today, and equally unaware that it is now likely to take place approximately three weeks hence instead. So that's been a bit of a let-down for all concerned, particularly her long-suffering owners who have borne each delay with admirable tolerance; but this latest delay ought to be the shortest one yet. I can stop worrying about her briefly again now before I resume doing so as her next intended debut looms - but in the interim I can console myself with the knowledge that the correct decision was taken today. And I can watch the Irish National from the comfort of the sofa and with a large mouthful of Easter Egg. But I'd rather have been with an undamaged Anis at Fakenham.