...is the bruise on my back (well, more bottom, really, but back sounds better).
Titch (who is on the mend and allowed to walk and trot. This isn't always strictly adhered to) and I have had two horrible accidents this week
No.1: We suddenly came across thick brambles in a very narrow lane, and got caught up in them. He was frightened and wanted to career onwards, in which case we would have been shredded. As it was, I just managed to turn him round and go back the way we came, and only I was shredded. Okay. Badly scratched, then. There was a lot of blood, and we were both upset.
No.2: Next day, off we set again. Lovely day, sun shining, both of us cheerful. Suddenly a deer appeared, and Titch leapt in the air. So did I. Sadly, we parted company in mid-air and I landed on my back and hip. On concrete. Titch made off homewards and I lay on the ground wondering whether I'd been killed, as you do. Couldn't get signal on phone. Meanwhile, Titch reappeared to see what had happened to me (aaaaaaah!). "What are you doing down there?" he asked. I tried to explain. But he made his apologies and cantered off, muttering something about lunch time, and he was going home even if I wasn't.
To cut a long story short, I had a nice little journey in an ambulance and a night in hospital and Titch is okay. I'm very sore, can hardly walk, and have an amazing bruise (I have a picture of it, and will post it if you promise to buy my book). I shall also miss my lovely niece's wedding on Saturday.
So far, it has not been a good week.