Blue For Bonnie
Bonnie Armitage with her pony Lindsay, photograph supplied to the media by her family
Image by Steve Key. Shared to social media as #blueforbonnie
As most of you will be aware, on Saturday, at the closing meet of the Cotswold Hunt, a nine year old girl was killed when she was kicked by another horse. Her name was Bonnie Armitage. She was nine.
Today when I typed her name into Google the site's algorithms produced her name before that of Bonnie Wright, the actress who played Ginny in the Harry Potter films. Her story is on everybody's lips.
Bonnie's death brought the season to a grim close. It was opened by the death of another; Gems McCormick MFH, an ex- helicopter pilot praised as an extraordinary and fearless horsewoman.
The response to both has been a remarkable show of solidarity from the equestrian community, and a horrific lack of empathy and humanity from those on the extreme side of the animal rights movement. Their comments are really too heinous to repeat here, but they are reproduced elsewhere.
A few weeks ago a teenage event rider, Olivia Inglis, died in an eventing accident in New South Wales. Within days riders across the world were sharing images of themselves riding, captioned #rideforolivia. For every ride she would have had had her life not been brought to a tragic close, there was another rider riding. The images were all digitally collated into a photograph of Olivia riding, and it was presented to the Inglis family.
Yesterday, within hours of the news breaking, photographs filled every social media outlet, of riders in blue, horses in blue, and blue skies, captioned #blueforbonnie. Once again the equestrian community gathered together to celebrate the life of one of their lost members.
This week in the hunting world there are no borders between packs. Spats between hunt staff, age old grudges and complaints about poor turnout are forgotten. We are all as one, and all thoughts are with the Armitage family, the rider of the kicking horse, and the Cotswold Hunt at large.
It could have been any one of us.
Scrolling through the captioned images one is struck by the fact that for every photograph of hounds silhouetted between pricked ears and a sapphire sky, or a rider in a navy coat clearing a hedge, there are ten photos of happy hackers, polo ponies, event riders, show jumpers rising over blue fillers, dressage riders warming up in blue bandages and smiling children with cornflower lead ropes.
It could have been any one of us.
Riders with the pluck and competency of Gems McCormick are few and far between. Rare are the horses and riders who will jump the Shires hedges that she cleared every week. In contrast every person who has ever been near a horse could have met the same tragic end as Bonnie Armitage.
The anti- hunt commenters writing hateful words live within their own four walls. These are not the same people who follow hunts by car or write intelligent letters to their MPs. They have no community, no group of likeminded individuals. They are alone. Only in the dark depths of the internet do they find their kind.
The hunting- and the general equestrian- community is different. Most of us will have never met Bonnie Armitage, Olivia Inglis or Gems McCormick. And yet we empathise with their families, we somehow cherish their memories because they were- and are- part of our shared heritage.
As a nine year old I backed my first pony. For what seemed like weeks I had found myself leaning over Pranc's back, until that fateful day when my mother announced that it was time to sit on her. Even now I remember slowly raising my right leg over her back, and slowly lifting myself up so that I sat upright on her back. She walked placidly around her stable. I was nine. It was arguably more dangerous than Bonnie's day out with the Cotswold. My pony responded well. I lived. Bonnie's pony was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She died.
It could have been any one of us.
If you have ridden since a child then you too will know the risks you took, the potentially dangerous situations you found yourself in. Anyone who has hunted will have seen horses kick out, ponies appearing behind horses, and other examples of situations were things could have gone wrong.
Driving to the yard this evening I came across two of the hunt's young followers, out for a hack on their ponies. The youngest one is around the same age as Bonnie Armitage. They are two sisters who love hunting. How horrible to think that it so easily could have been one of them.
Tonight across the country hunting mothers will hold their children a little closer. In every pack someone will remember another rider lost to the chase. Those who are still hunting will take an extra swig of port before a big jump and reassure themselves today is not my day.
Bonnie Armitage's death is another reminder of the risks we all take and the dangers we all face. This week everyone remembers her.
And for those who believe, she joins the legions of other hunters who fell and never arose, who chase a quarry that can never be caught, led by a huntsman who never blows for home.
Rest in peace.