I should perhaps go back to the day when Boris first arrived. 

I have a middle-aged grey gelding called Murphy.  I've had him about four years I guess - he came "free to a good home" from a pony club.  I found out he had a history of bucking, just too late to stop him being dropped off in the race at my gate. But when I saw him there, there was something about him that drew me.

He's a handsome horse with bags of character, some Arab blood, and he's nobody's fool.  I like him a lot, though he can be a bit stroppy, and right now I don't have time to work on that.   I have ridden him once and before I start riding him seriously (whenever I get time again), we shall both have to be worked on by experts.  Murphy has had no equine companionship for the last couple of years, and I feel for him on that score.  But - let's face it - things are hotting up around here and there's never a dull moment, so he can't complain of lack of entertainment.

Boris arrived pretty late one evening in a very swept-up horsefloat.  By the time we offloaded him and walked him up to his pen behind the shed, Murphy - who obviously had heard the horsefloat coming and was anticipating the arrival of the equine equivalent of a well-endowed blonde - was down at the fence waiting.  I don't think Murphy had ever seen a pig before - certainly not a fat, exotic, black and cream one with a flowing coat like Boris.

It was getting dark and all our attention was taken up with getting Boris settled.  When I went up to check on things the following morning, Murphy was nowhere around.  I finally spied him standing in the upper paddock right back against the bushline, as far away from the new arrival as he could possibly get.  "Yikes Mother - what's that????"

I called him down and he came into the lower paddock but resisted coming down to the gate, prancing around on the edge of an invisible circle about 30 feet radius from the gate itself.  When I finally got him through it - at top speed - he took up a position round the corner out of sight of the pig, and just stood there most of the day, not even particularly interested in his feed bowl.  The pig had put him well and truly "off his tucker", because normally I have to really assert myself to make him stand back while I get his feed put out.

The next day looked like being a repeat performance so I knew I had to spend a bit of time.  I put Murphy on a lead and led him up to the pig's gate.  He was too spooky to want to even look, but I made him look and kept him there.  Boris is basically a friendly soul, and he came up to the gate and carried on a long chatter, putting his face up to the horse.  Murphy with his ears bolt-forward gradually bent his neck and before too long the two were talking.

The relationship hasn't been without incident. I fed them together after that - Boris inside his run and Murphy outside - always feeding Murphy first.  I finally decided to let them out together into the paddock - worrying more for Murphy than for Boris, actually.  How wrong I was.  When I went up to check them later, Murphy had bitten Boris on his back and drawn a little blood.  Out came the stock iodine, and it's all healed up now.  It's good that I am getting a few more other animals around again - Murph is going to have to learn to behave.