A Pampered (and Musical?) Horse

I owe this blog post to my sister-in-law. Recently she visited Malvern Priory and looked unsuccessfully for a Cayley gravestone. She mentioned this to a retired GP with the sharpest of memories. He replied:

“But I remember a Miss Cayley. I looked after her as a young doctor. She was beyond eccentric. I received a request for an urgent home visit but when I finally located her house, hidden way behind a five-bar gate, I could get no answer. I was concerned, especially when no-one responded to phone calls from the surgery, and went back. There was a note on the gate, ‘Dear Doctor, I was out but I’m home now.’ When I entered I was surprised to find straw on the floor. I soon realised why. She had the only sitting-room I have ever known to contain both a grand piano – and a horse.”

I do not know who this resplendent lady was, but it reinforces my long-held belief that most Cayleys are at least half-mad. Myself, of course, included.

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