Most people are getting in a happy, festive and fluffy mood, but not me. I think this is born from long periods of watching intense high level dressage, without any sound on my T.V.

Best not to ask why I'm doing that.

"The KWPN, otherwise known as the Dutch Warmblood is probably the breed of horse that anyone thinks of when you say sports horse. A versatile breed, capable of amazing strength over jumps taller than themselves as well as stunning grace and presence when put to dressage. There were many copies, imitations and lookalikes in the horse world, but none could ever match the mighty Dutch sports horse."

The horse that triggered these thoughts was bred for the latter discipline, as its impressive neck, long back and exaggerated movement showed. It, or rather, He was a tall, imposing creature, jet black with four white socks, an elongated star and a large snip, his rider was also tall and imposing, mainly due to his intensely concentrating face and the small scar on his forehead. The image was only ruined by the man's pipe clutched between his teeth and lack of protective riding hat.

The duo's movement spoke of years of hard practice, legs, wearing 3000 euro boots, barely moved and reins, though tight, were much looser than was correct. The stallions feet struck the ground and lifted high into his body two at a time, a perfect piaffe. The rider moved ever so slightly and the pair moved forwards, four steps of trot before one boot slipped back by millimetres and the hoof opposite to the boot flicked up and reached outwards at speed, at the same time the long, luxurious black rope-like tail swished up in annoyance, the demand for canter ever-so slightly strong, upsetting the delicate natured beast.

Matthias nodded and advanced as the Dutchman dismounted from the horse, "That was amazing." he complimented his cousin. The man turned, "Not our best performance, it's difficult to be perfect though, especially when I am so horribly aware that they'll come and remove him any day now."

Matthias' usual grin faded instantly "Who will take him? Why is someone separating your from him?"

Lars sighed "You didn't hear the news, did you. His owners sold him to the German Olympic team, he is now Ludwigs to ride and profit from."

"Ouch, that must have been harsh, they've basically bought themselves Olympic victory next summer then."

"Only if they can control him, Toto's hardly going to make it easy for Ludwig."

Matthias pulled his upset cousin into a comforting embrace, the other letting a strangled sob past his lips, truly upset at loosing the graceful creature to his rival.

The stallion chose that moment to push his head in-between them with a low snort, soft lips nibbling at their ears. "Hey Lars. I think he's trying to tell you something."

"What."

"He's saying that he'll always be a Dutch horse at heart."

"lang leve, Nederland."

The horse mentioned is the Dutch-bred stallion Moorlands Totilas who was recently sold out from under his rider Edward Gal for something rumoured between 9.5 and 15 mill. euros (12714806 to 20076010 USD). Despite having no attachment to the Dutch team (Team GBR all the way!) my heart went out to Mr. Gal, the duo's fans and to Totilas as well, the poor thing will now have to learn to understand German!
I have nothing against the Germans though, and good luck to Matthias Rath with Totilas, the equestrian world's going to be watch his every move, looking for any mistakes and that's a lot of pressure on one man.