I’d like to introduce you a certain tank-like, semi-feral chap called Mac, who's joined my herd. Yes, this is me rapidly approaching my 6th decade, and I've got 4 horses again. What am I like ...

Earlier this year we moved house, which meant we moved livery yards as well. Boy did I land on my perfect dream yard – right on the top of the Mendip Hills, with acres of untouched, ancient sheep moorland with perfect rough grazing, ideal for my two metabolics, Cookie and Murphy, (er, make that 3 now) and our beautiful TB mare, Carmen.

Murf, Cookie and Carms settled instantly into their huge field set deep in the Somerset farmlands, bordered by ancient, crumbling, dry stone walls lined with huge beech trees, and views as far as you could see out to the Bristol Channel. Didn’t take long to get to know the two ponies in the next field, Shannon and Mac, both belonging to the YO, as well as her other last few retirees dotted around the farm, all now well into their dotage and enjoying a free-range life.

On talking with the YO, Mac apparently belonged to a former livery, who’d given him up to the YO 4-years previously, after asking her if she could rehome him for her. Two attempts later, he ended up coming back.

The YO, now pretty much retired from all things equine other than leading her grandchildren out for a potter on one of her retired ponies, had eventually resigned herself to the fact that Mac was there to stay, so she paired him with Shannon (one of her homebreds) and he fell into the same free-range regime, a home for life with a friend and no stress. Which also means he was pretty much untouched (he was then 17).

Anyway, when I arrived, my lot went into the field next to Mac, so I couldn’t help but get used to seeing him over the fence. We soon found out he was a biter, with no concept of personal space, and solid as a rock. There was something about him though. He'd always come up to the fence when I arrived, curious and inquisitive, despite always being ready for a well-aimed bite.

It grew quite fond of MacAttack - I always made time to say hello and risk a face-on cuddle in the hope my arm didn’t get bitten off, but I wasn’t brave enough to risk trusting his rear end in the field with him, so I played safe over the fence.

After a few weeks I asked YO if I could get Mac’s feet done – they were a bit ropey and she was more than happy, and while we were chatting I got a bit more on his background. Apparently he was a sweet-itch sufferer so every year the owner bought him a special rug. He was also apparently unrideable – don’t know the reason why but apparently he sent anyone skywards who was brave enough to try.

Trim time, so I went to bring him in. But ... I hadn’t even considered the NIGHTMARE it would be to get him out of his field! He caught fine, but trying to lead him away from Shannon to the gate was terrifying. He saved the best till last - his final trick at the gate was to spin his half-ton thuggery against me and gallop flat out back down the field. I haven’t felt the full weight of a horse against me for decades, or rope-burn on my hands either, so this was an almighty wake-up call and a heavyweight shock. 

I got him out eventually but only by bringing Shannon in too – our field was quite a trek from the yard so yes, I was very aware that my heart was in my mouth – another feeling that I’ve not had for years. I knew I was consciously trying to stay calm and b-r-e-a-t-h-e. I’m so lucky with my three – we’ve been together for years so we all know each other inside-out and are very calm together - they lead like a dream and usually at liberty alongside me. Suddenly having two half-tons of pulling, spinning, semi-ferals on the end of each arm was a huge reminder that in a blink they can not only floor you, but it might hurt a lot too.

Finally in the barn and that’s when I saw Mac's sweet itch for real. I knew his skin was scrawny and in poor nick as I’d only met him at face level. His neck was a bit rubbed with bare patches and scurfy skin, and not much left of a scrappy mane, but I’d not been round his back end yet. Once there, the only thing you could do was a sharp intake of breath.

This was the worst SI I’d ever seen, and our Kelso had been the SI King so I knew SI, but this was something else. Huge, deep, open, suppurating wounds, raw, weeping and bloody, the size of dinner plates. Just dreadful. I mentioned it gently to YO who sputtered that yes she felt dreadful about it but she had ordered a rug for him, and to be fair it arrived that same day.

Cut a long story short, I was really concerned for this little chap. Knowing I could help him I asked the YO if I could. She was more than happy, and this is where it happened ... I really should have sensed those planets aligning. She just happened to say that she was hoping to find someone to take him on as she felt so sorry for him. And that was it. Those fatal words.

Just like when Carmen came to join us, I neither needed – nor wanted – another horse. I’m knocking on a bit now, for one thing, but another reason is cost as, let's face it, livery ain't cheap. But as I always flipping do, I start pondering, and I found myself wondering if I could take him on as a ‘sharer’, which meant maybe I wouldn’t have to pay livery as technically YO would still own him.But I could take responsibility for his care, maybe do some retraining with him, or at least get him used to humans again, and he might pair-up with Cookie who often played third-wheel alongside Carms and Murf. The more I thought, the more I convinced myself, and there we were - I found myself really keen to go for it.

I had the chat – the owner was very agreeable, and more than happy not to charge me any extra. The deal was done - Mac would come under my wing with me as his 'keeper' but not his owner. I now had a herd of four to now care for.

This must’ve been around end May-ish time? Time flies so not sure. Anyway, Mac went straight onto our regime: our EquiVita minerals, l-carnitine to hopefully target his fat pads and leptin resistance (he was permanently starving!), linseed for his coat/skin, and salt for all the right reasons, and all mixed into Agrobs' Leitchgenus fatties chaff. I also gave him a course of our OptimaCARE full-body detox alongside our LKLCARE for his sweet itch.

Of course, his sweet itch was deeply embedded in him so while we were waiting for the herbs to take effect it took just one week for Mac to completely trash his new rug. So I dug out Murf's from the previous summer and on it went.  All mine have fly rugs, not special SI rugs – just cheapo Ebay ones in case the flies are bad, although it's only Murf who occasionally needs one on the odd day as he cries if the horseflies are bloodsucking. So Mac got Murf’s rug and within a week he'd trashed that as well.

Cookie’s fly rug then went on him, and by now we were starting to see progress on his bum – the herbs were starting to clean up his skin and I'd started trusting his back-end enough to slather our aloe SwItchGel on by the gallon. He still rubbed, but you could tell it was less damaging. Of course he rubbed where his skin was starting to heal, so it didn’t take much to tear it again, but together me, Mac, whatever rug he was in and the SwItchGel were able to keep on top of it.

I really wish I’d taken a photo of him at his worst before any rugs went on him, but the first picture here is him with Cookie’s rug on, so about 3-weeks in. You'll definitely get an idea of what we were dealing with ...

The second photo was around 2-weeks later after Cookie’s rug gave up the ghost and I finally put Carmen’s fly rug on him. She'd come with a smart, expensive Horseware rug which I inherited with her yet never needed to use. It was perfect for Mac, strong and robust, and best of all, seemingly untrashable. You can see how the raw skin is now starting to regrow some fluff and his tail is much less inflamed.

We were slowly starting to win the SI battle.