It needed
to be spacious but small enough to be collapsed so that it would fit in my
van. It needed to be comfortable, warm
and dry and small enough to leave the rest of the clearing as a garden. It needed doors I could lock at night and
ventilation that could be opened and closed.
It needed a lot of things and I set them all out in pencil drawn
designs. First working on the basic
shape, (I tried a few fancy designs but it was only ever going to be a shape
that was basically square with a simple triangle roof) I slowly added all the
features as the plans grew more detailed and a ruler, a set square and scale
were employed. Now all I had to do was
convert this idea into something real that was also easy to transport and
assemble where it was needed.
I made a
frame from MDF and walls and a roof of plywood before waterproofing the roof
with the same stuff Randy had had on his hutch.
In essence I built a prefab stable I would be able to set up in the
forest and later on back home when she was ready to come back too. If she ever even would be that is. It was very simple. Six side parts - a bottom, three walls and
two roof pieces each slotting into the frame.
A door
completed it. One like you might expect
- two parts meeting in the middle and leaving enough room above for the unicorn
to put her head over. And it had a latch
that was attached to the right hand door and lifted over to keep the other
closed. Bolts low down stopped the doors
moving forward or back when this latch was on.
The windows were kind of similar.
There was one on each end with simple shutters like you sometimes see on
houses (I seem to remember having them for Lego houses, if that helps) that
could be locked open or shut.
On the
inside, I would cover the floor with hay that I would change every week, though
it was already looking like it would probably be more often. At one side was a trough that was divided
into two sections and would be half full of water and half oats. Porridge would be served, to begin with, when
I made my visits.
I built the
stable in my back garden first and practiced taking it apart and putting it
back together again. And then I tested
it out, sleeping inside it when rain was forecast. A whole storm, actually - the stable was
smacked by fierce winds that did nothing but rattle it (a little too fiercely
for my liking, I made a note to wedge out the slots with rubber piping). Overall it was cold but dry so I insulated it
a little more, gluing stuff to the inside of the walls when I rebuilt the
stable in the clearing and I changed the shutters to the kind that are hinged
at the top and can either be lifted right up and locked or only opened a little
bit. Much like glass windows.
Which I did
the following weekend on my first visit to the clearing in quite a number of
weeks. I was worried it would have
become a little too overgrown for my purposes but it was all as I had last seen
it. It took quite a while to carry and
shunt all the parts to the clearing.
Once there it went up in a jiffy, I’d become quite a dab hand. And I was pleasantly surprised to see just
how much space was left about the clearing for the unicorn to move about
in. Quite a bit more than she would get
at my house, which seemed a bit unfair.
Then I
began to fuss about getting it all ready.
I filled the trough with oats on one side and the imported tap water she
would have to get used to for when I would take her to its source. Finally I spread the softest hay all over the
floor, building it up in one corner. I
kept moving it around and around, trying to get it perfect. Over and over I shifted it about, moving
through every arrangement I could think of and never knowing which was the
best. Looking back on it, it reminds me
of my mother rushing about the house preparing it for visitors, desperately
seeking to make the house ‘presentable’.
I always thought she looked real silly, mainly because the visitors were
friends and family who I didn’t think would care how the damn house looked, but
no doubt I looked just as silly that day in the clearing fussing about my crazy
cause.
I kept at
my daft shuffle until that good old mid-afternoon moment came around quite
unexpectedly, a time I had felt a certain numbness at since stopping (even on
weekdays I felt a tingle and a regret at this time, thinking about the attempt
I had made the Saturday before and looking forward to the one I would be having
a crack at next), when a unicorn nose nudged me in the small of the back and
the other feeling returned. That one of
hope and expectation, full of nerves and excitement. I closed my eyes and smiled broadly, the
happiest I think I had ever been, and I clicked into action.
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