Do you remember “Mister Ed”, the old American situation comedy show about the acerbic talking horse? (We loved it  when I was a child.) It starred the gelding palomino, Bamboo Harvester, Allan Lane (the voice of Mister Ed), and Alan Young who played the architect owner… Well, I’m not going to discuss that, except in passing because you may have started to get excited thinking that I was going to write about Mr. Ed. Sorry to disappoint. In truth, I really want to talk horse, or rather, I would like to tell you about some of the horse-talk that I was party to yesterday during my visit to Jimboomba (love that name). Naturally, one is bound to have a bit of horse-talk when one calls on people whose living it is to train horses and riders, even when your own experience of horses was limited to Sunday treats as a child – riding old nags that used to wander off into the bush at will and, with the help of a sharp twig, cantered only on the way back to the stables (a gallop was out of the question, and they used to turn around and nip our legs!)

So there I was, with cherubic baby Rowan in my arms, out on the verandah; my friend’s daughter, Ellie, and her four-year-old, Kai, were there too. We were about to depart for the training paddocks in Logan Village when an attractive woman, dressed in a St Tropez-style white blouse over Levi jeans, turned up to book a lesson and have a horse chat with Ellie. I sensed they would not be too interested to hear about my ordeals with the bad-tempered old nags at Gumdale years ago, so I kept quiet, smiled occasionally, and listened. From time to time my mind wandered… but sometimes my ears pricked up.

“So how much did she get for Roger?” asked Julie-Ann (in the baseball cap and nice white blouse).

“About thirty, I think,” answered Ellie.

“Thirty? That seems alot for Roger,” Julie-Ann’s eyebrows furrowed.

Thirty dollars sounded quiet cheap for a horse to me.

“It might have been less – it could have been fifteen…” Ellie conceded.

“Blimey!” I though to myself.

“Are you talking thousands?” I asked them, incredulously.

They smiled their answer back at me.

“Well how much is a normal horse?”

“Anything,” said Ellie, “from a couple of hundred – the price for horse meat – to a few thousand, or thirty thousand – even millions!”

“Horse meat?” I thought of the horse meat scandal back in England.

“I know it sounds terrible,and I’m a vegetarian, but dogs have got to eat too,” Ellie felt uncomfortable.

We all looked at her dog called Bailey. He was well-fed. I turned cuddly baby Rowan over on my lap so he could sleep safely with his arms, legs and head free, and I patted his bottom (I remembered that my Mum used to do this with Henry and Robert… and all of us, probably). I was thinking nice thoughts about babies when the horse-talk conversation took precedence again.

“Grant is so much better educated than Clara,” Julie-Ann quipped.

“It happens,” said my friend’s daughter knowingly.

“When she asks him to do things he just looks at her as if to say, ‘I can’t be bothered – you’re way beneath me’. She’ll have to get rid of him,” added Julie-Ann.

“What’s he worth?” asked Ellie.

“I don’t know. What do you think? Thirty thousand?”

Like an alien actress, I nodded. I was glad the answer wasn’t “Two hundred dollars”.

And now for the lyrics to Mister Ed, courtesy of the show’s archives.

 

 

Hello, I'm Mister Ed 

A horse is a horse, of course of course, 
and no one can talk to a horse of course, 
that is of course, unless the horse, 
Is the famous Mister Ed! 

Go right to the source and ask the horse. 
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse. 
He's always on a steady course. 
Talk to Mister Ed.

People yak-it-ti-yak a streak 
and waste your time of day, 
but Mister Ed will never speak, 
unless he has something to say... 

A horse is a horse, of course of course, 
And this one will talk 'til his voice is hoarse. 
You never heard of a talking horse? 
Well, listen to this... 

I am Mister Ed