It’s a glorious English summer day in Wiltshire. Only slightly damp. You turn your horse out onto a water meadow to graze, and leave him there.
The next morning, your girlfriend calls from the vet where she works. They have your horse. He’s fine and totally unconcerned. Do you want to come and pick him up? What happened?
It turns out that your horse, in search of adventure, swam or waded all the way down river into central Salisbury where he was discovered, midstream – happy as Larry – at 8pm in the evening. After some time he was coaxed out by the fire brigade and handed over to a local vet… (Photo here courtesy of the Salisbury Journal, story courtesy of my mum, who was told it by the jeweller Alison Varley, whose son owns the aquatic adventurer).