SHOWING IS A FUNNY BUSINESS.  It’s not really a great spectator sport, but I like to sit at ringside and watch ponies gleaming with good health, eyes shining, coats sparkling, feet polished like gems, trotting obediently next to their immaculately turned-out handlers.  I’m interested in the result and get plenty of entertainment agreeing, or not, with the judge.  But even more than watching, I love to be there doing it.  I’m not alone in this.  Most horse people who go to t shows, show.  This often leaves the ringside bare, except for a few casual bystanders who may well admire the general effect, but who tend to become bored as one class of ponies is succeeded by the next, two inches taller, but otherwise pretty much like the previous one to the uninitiated.

To counter this boredom, agricultural show societies tend to provide mass entertainment in the great tradition of the Romans - ‘Bread & Circuses’ - the more bizarre, the better.  Unfortunately for the horse fraternity, many of these attractions scare lots of horses witless and consequently reduce handlers and riders to gibbering wrecks.  This has the side effect of making arena events much more interesting and introduces action and spectacle wild enough to thrill the heart of Cecil B de Milne.  Country shows seem to vie with each other, searching to find the magic formula to get people through the gate.

Most agi shows feature side Show Alley and show ponies get used to merry-go-rounds and the ferris wheel etc.  the fiendish device that whizzes shrieking passengers around in little cars on the end of long arms while pumping itself up, then dumps them down with a huge hiss is a different matter; not many horses or ponies are willing to trot freely towards that one.  If they can be convinced to work towards it in the first place, most of them scoot away at a great rate with their eyes rolling and their tails clamped firmly down.

One show in Central Victoria used to run a clay-bird shoot in the paddock adjoining the arena.  The shooting always seemed to coincide with the harness classes.  Spectacular action was the order of the day!  The ringside crowd was marvellously entertained!  I once watched a big harness horse bounding across the arena, his leaps in time with volleys of shots.  Fortunately the gig stayed upright and they left the ring unscathed.  Just in time too, as the relieved driver reached help, half a dozen big woolly weathers jumped out of the yard-dog trials and skittered across the arena, pursued by show officials.  This caused further chaos, but the finishing touch for the few horses still working quietly was the sight of the show president straddling one of the recaptured sheep and ‘riding’ it back to the yards.

Helicopters at shows are now fairly common-place and a lot of ponies have learnt to accept them as just part of the scenery.  However, in the search for new ways to stimulate public enthusiasm, one of our  bigger local shows organised a spectacular aerial display by a stunt plane.  Right over the showgrounds, of course and low enough for spectators to see the colour of the pilot’s eyes.  Unhappily, most of the horse folk were too busy handling their own special side shows to really appreciate the pilot’s skill, or the show committee’s forethought in planning the entertainment.

The prize for best one-off horse scarer must go to a recent show in Northern Victoria.  The town was very proud to have supplied milk products from their local co-op to go with Neil Armstrong to the moon in 1969.  To celebrate, they entered a float in the Moomba Parade, featuring a large papier-maché cow jumping over the moon.  Someone found this wonderful beast in a store room just before this year’s show.  With glad cries, Daisy was wheeled out, patched and given a gleaming new coat of black and white paint, all fifteen feet of her!  Then she was installed in the middle of the main arena, between the hack and pony rings so that everyone could admire her and remember the town’s achievement.

Early morning lungeing sessions were ‘interesting’ - warm-ups under saddle more so.  Some folk tried leading their ponies past with a nonchalant air - the ponies weren’t fooled - they knew a horse-scarer when they saw one.  Some riders stayed as far away as possible, no doubt hoping that they wouldn’t actually have to go too close to Daisy in their classes.

The organisers were astounded to see how bothered the horses and ponies were, but inclined to the view that the equine fireworks were caused by too much feed and not enough work.  However, if you have ever been out riding and been confronted by a cow that stands and stares at your horse, you’ll know how unsettling most of them find this.  Like all prey animals, horses interpret a fixed stare as the prelude to attack and their flight instinct is triggered.

Daisy was sufficiently realistic to produce unease when viewed from the rear and terror when seen from the front or side.  Quiet horses became semi-lunatic.  Youngsters freaked right out.  Handlers had their feet trampled as their charges tried to escape from Daisy’s dotty gaze.

The first class of the day was for Junior Turnouts.  Only two ponies out of fourteen could be convinced to work quietly towards Daisy.  Several usually sedate mounts showed surprising verve and agility in going every way except forward, creating an effect resembling a bending race without poles.  Everyone heaved a sigh of relief when the judge refused to continue until Daisy was removed to another place of honour, away from the horses.  Her memory lingered on - my stallion looked nervously around all day, evidently worrying that Daidy was still lurking somewhere, ready to leap.

I can’t wait until next show season.  What will show societies think of next to help us show how adaptable our ponies are?  Can they top bag-pipers, marching bands, trotting races, sixteen-span bullock wagons, hot-air balloons, helicopters, stunt planes, parachutes, large modern farm machinery and even larger ancient steam-driven chaff-cutters?  Daisy?

They probably can.  They probably will.  But I’m sure our ponies will learn to take all these frightening monsters in their stride and the casual show goer will continue to admire the polished effect.  They’ll probably continue to be largely unaware how marvellous it is for equines to be able to accept these things at all.  They won’t understand the time and effort involved in producing the trust that allows our ponies to function so well in such artificial surroundings, far, very far, from the wild lonely hills of their ancestors.  Perhaps a few of the onlookers will some day be lucky enough to own a Welsh pony and be able to enjoy their company as well as admire their beauty.  Then, no doubt, they’ll eventually discover that they’d like to show the pony.  Then they’ll understand!

Chris Milvain  © 1992