My grandfather Pat was a very tall slim man who loved reading books. He once told me that you could travel the world by reading books. He had an ass and cart, which he used for drawing turf from the bog and he called the ass '' Fanny ''.
There was always great excitement whenever he decided to bring home the turf. He thought us how to harness the ass to the cart. My brothers, sisters and I would climb on board the cart and head on down the bog road with grandfather at the rains. The noise from the iron-rimed wooded wheels on the roadway was like music to uor ears. Unable to contain our excitement, with shouts of joy we would travel down the bog road. We were cowboys for the day, masters of all we surveyed off on a great adventure.
I'll never forget the day grandfather thought me how to ride. He put me on Fanny's back and brought me over the field but he insisted on holding the rein, saying, I was too young to go on my own. Later that evening when grandfather went to town on his bike, he warned me to stay away from Fanny, as I didn't have enough experience yet. He had only just thrown his leg over the bike when I dashed out the back door and straight up to the haggard where I knew Fanny was. I rode her bareback around the haggard but Fanny wasn't impressed, she buckleapt and I fell off!!
I never told my grandfather I was afraid of what he might say.
In May 2008 I attended the Dunderry Fair and was pleasantly surprised when I met Jinny one of Fanny's relatives.