You’d better shape up
WHEN the hunters come in after summer it’s fair to say they don’t look the glorious sights they do at the opening meets. Our yard’s various characters came in from patches of hillside or fields within a five-mile radius of the yard. Our two, which I opted to get going myself, had been on the side of a hill for four months gorging in a field seemingly laced with peanut butter. They had been having a splendid time, with yearlings to one side and some foreign showjumping (pain-in-zeearse) type to the other. “You need to get him in. He’s obese and
