Yesterday was a very sad day. My friend Zoe Milton lost her fight with cancer.
I met Zoe years ago, through dressage. We always seemed to be in the same class, and in the warmup and at the results board there would always be this noisy blonde girl… Usually winning. As we became friends, I realised that Zoe was actually much shyer than she initially appeared, but her talent as a horse rider was undeniable. First with the legend that was Spyke (possibly one of the cheekiest horses I’ve ever met) and then later with Larry, Nico, Romeo and pretty much everything else she sat on, Zoe could usually be found somewhere in the vicinity of a red rosette.
We ended up on the same livery yard, inevitably, and when I had to have my mare Meg put to sleep, it was Zoe who gave me a big hug and listened to me snuffle on about my darling girl. When Chirma rodeoed so hard it left me black and blue, it was Zoe who found other horses for me to ride while she was turned away and helped me rebuild my confidence. Whenever we went out competing, she would always ask how we’d done, commiserate when it went badly and lead the cheers when it went well. She was the sort of person who made you feel like you could do anything, just by being around her. And of course, whenever I fell off, she would be there, laughing at me as I spat sand out of my mouth. Hitting the deck is never so bad if you have someone to laugh you back onto your feet.
I’ll remember the day she competed at Abram in the rain, just after getting a fake tan – the water turning hr gorgeous Pikeur breeches an unfortunate shade of pink and green. I’ll remember watching awestruck as she piloted Larry round some of the most elegant, fluent dressage tests I’ve ever seen. I’ll remember the sensitivity with which she nannied Romeo – nearly 17hh of gangly youngster who often didn’t know quite where his legs were – round his early tests, scoring 70%+ in the process, of course. It was a master class in how to ride a young dressage horse. I’ll remember sitting in a bush, laughing our heads off, watching the horses bugger off across a field after an unfortunate incident. There are so many lovely memories, and I’ll keep them until the end of my life.
Throughout Zoe’s illness, her mum Caroline has been the picture of grace and strength. Even when doctors said Zoe wouldn’t recover, she carried on congratulating me for every success, as I took my horse to the places Zoe never would. She’s an amazing woman.
Next month, Zoe and I were meant to be going to the Active Rider camp together. I remember when we planned it, a few short months ago, we were both so excited. I considered cancelling, but then I thought, if she were here, she would be furious that I wasn’t making the most of the opportunity. I can’t promise I won’t cry when I get there, though. But Active Rider are doing some amazing fundraising for Bolton Hospice, who cared for Zoe. You can find out more at www.justgiving.com/activeRiderUK. Please donate if you can. There will also be a charity dressage competition on October 26th. Click here for more details.
So RIP Zoe. I’ll think of you with every red rosette – and every time I find myself sat on the floor with a horse’s bottom disappearing over the horizon. It’s been an honour to know you xxxx
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