Through a strange twist I am proud to be the first to tell you that Rosie is the proud mother of a baby foal and nobody is more surprised than I. How could that be? The gestation period for a mare is over 11 months so that would mean that I rode a pregnant mare all the way through India from Delhi. This also means that the fellow who?€?d sold me her originally lied when we asked him if she was pregnant. Of course when I first learnt all this news I was in Pakistan and it wasn?€?t until I hurriedly arrived in India several days later that the full story emerged.

After I left India, Dr. A.K. Sharma was my sole contact as far as Rosie was concerned. Not only did he make my ride through India much easier but he also agreed to watch Rosie for me whilst I was away in Pakistan. We had originally needed Rosie later on and Dr. Sharma knew the perfect chap near Amritsar (not far from the Pakistan border), who could look after her.

Unfortunately Rosie’s tale just proves what a remarkable animal she was. The chap from Amritsar didn?€?t care for Rosie very well and after two months he contacted Dr. Sharma to make other arrangements for her. She was transported down to Fatehabad (about 200kms North of Delhi) where she arrived in a poor state. Guldeep hadn?€?t fed her properly or treated here with the respect she deserved and she needed a lot of care and attention. Something her new owner carer at Fatehabad gave in spades. Balbir Nat was a local saint who thereafter gave Rosie regular feeds, her own shelter and plenty of attention. But she still had one huge surprise to come. Six weeks ago Dr. Sharma received a phonecall to say that Rosie was pregnant and in the wee small hours two weeks later she gave birth to a healthy foal. They were both given the mandatory medical injections (e.g. Tetanus) and I rushed to India to hear the above story in person.

Fate plays a strange game

But the story doesn’t end there. As far as I know when I left India I was one of the first people to ever try to take a horse from India to Pakistan. So imagine my surprise when I re-entered India and the first person I should meet (actually on the border) was another person trying to take a horse into Pakistan. A beautiful black Marwari horse called Danya to be exact. Fate plays in mysterious ways and it couldn?€?t have been an accident that we just met. Since I couldn?€?t take my mare into Pakistan, it would be great if I could help another person to do it. The girl I met was called Simran and she also had a lot of people trying for her as I had had. She originally worked for the Maharaja of Jaipur on a horse farm at his estate in Rajesthan. The stallion she was trying to export was one of his personal favourites and a German diplomat by the name of Claus wanted to buy him and keep him on a friend?€?s estate in Pakistan. Things seemed to be cracking along nicely. Through Claus’ connections, Pakistan had given full permission to allow Danya to enter but then disaster struck. At the last minute the good old Indian Government refused to allow Danya to exit the country and told Simran that she?€?d need an export license to do so. That meant another ten days in Delhi and a whole heap of good luck. But then as luck would have it she met me, who?€?d been through the whole bureaucratic mess 6 months earlier. I gave her all the telephone numbers and advice she’d need to start the procedure and told her to cross her fingers. Although I don’t hold much confidence that she?€?ll succeed, she does have the Maharaja of Jaipur and a respected German diplomat working for her. Unfortunately since that time I haven?€?t heard from Simran but if I do I’ll let you all know.

But the story doesn?€?t end there. As far as I know when I left India I was one of the first people to ever try to take a horse from India to Pakistan. So imagine my surprise when I re-entered India and the first person I should meet (actually on the border) was another person trying to take a horse into Pakistan. A beautiful black Marwari horse called Danya to be exact. Fate plays in mysterious ways and it couldn?€?t have been an accident that we just met. Since I couldn?€?t take my mare into Pakistan, it would be great if I could help another person to do it. The girl I met was called Simran and she also had a lot of people trying for her as I had had. She originally worked for the Maharaja of Jaipur on a horse farm at his estate in Rajesthan. The stallion she was trying to export was one of his personal favourites and a German diplomat by the name of Claus wanted to buy him and keep him on a friend?€?s estate in Pakistan. Things seemed to be cracking along nicely. Through Claus?€? connections, Pakistan had given full permission to allow Danya to enter but then disaster struck. At the last minute the good old Indian Government refused to allow Danya to exit the country and told Simran that she?€?d need an export license to do so. That meant another ten days in Delhi and a whole heap of good luck. But then as luck would have it she met me, who?€?d been through the whole bureaucratic mess 6 months earlier. I gave her all the telephone numbers and advice she?€?d need to start the procedure and told her to cross her fingers. Although I don?€?t hold much confidence that she?€?ll succeed, she does have the Maharaja of Jaipur and a respected German diplomat working for her. Unfortunately since that time I haven?€?t heard from Simran but if I do I’ll let you all know.Seeing Rosie after five months was a great experience. Although she was still rather thin, she still seemed to remember me and she was very protective of her foal. He?€?d been born ten days earlier and was still all legs as he staggered around his pen. He clung like a magnet to Rosie?€?s side when I approached and Rosie gave me a warning grunt if I got to close.

The next day there was a horse fair just up the road at Sirsar (about 40kms from where Rosie was stabled). Sirsar was the original place that I?€?d bought Rosie from eight months ago and it seemed as if history was taking me full circle. The journey to the fair was a bumpy one and I was glad we?€?d left the foal behind. Especially since when we arrived another foal had broken its leg making the same journey we just had.

Horses were strewn everywhere and the fair had all the feel of the typical chaos of an Indian market. Whilst most horses were lined up under the cool shade of nearby trees, others were paraded around or made to do stupid dances in the middle of crowds of slack-jawed locals.

Rosie received a mixed reception when we arrived. Some people were interested, others weren?€?t. Some were interested in the horse, whilst most cared more about the fact that there was an Englishman selling one and right on their doorstop. Most thought the mare came from England but the truth about Rosie slowly revealed itself as the day wore on. In an Indian town everybody knows everybody else and it wasn?€?t long before I?€?d met each of Rosie?€?s three previous owners. All that was, except Tashneem Singh, the unconscionable fellow who?€?d originally lied about Rosie in the first place and who also knew that I would at the fair today.

Rosie was originally bought in Rajesthan for 17,000Rs. She changed hands several times around Sirsar and in fact she wasn?€?t a popular mare. During the seven years she?€?d been here she?€?d only had two foals, because of a problem with miscarriages. Thereafter most people didn?€?t take an interest in her, but did take an interest in telling me how much I?€?d been ripped off! I did everything I could to sell her including showing prospective buyers newspaper clippings of Rosie?€?s record breaking trip across India. At the end of the day though Rosie was thin and not really in the mood for dancing to yocals with drums. With the help of Dr. Sharma (who?€?d attended the event as a guest-speaker), we finally arranged a kind of auction for the mare. Sadly though, although her price quickly climbed, it wasn?€?t because of her qualities, it was because an Englishman had owned her. Each man competed to outbid the other simply because he didn?€?t like the thought of his neighbour actually owning Rosie. It was a child?€?s game but finally there was a happy ending.

Balbir Nat

Balbir Nat, (the local saint), who’d cared for Rosie for the past 4 months, finally topped the bidding at half the price I?€?d first paid for her. But that was immaterial. As far as I was concerned she was worth all the money and more for making the journey she?€?d been asked and still giving birth to a healthy foal afterwards. Rosie now has a good home with someone that I know and hopefully can trust.

In four weeks time I?€?ll be finally leaving Lahore with two Afghani horses bound for China. Rohan and Griffin?€?s training is currently going well and everything is looking 'Rosie' for the future.