Our business appeared to be going quite well. We decided to hold an event, rewarding our most frequent customers for their loyalty by taking them on a horse-riding ‘posse’ in Knebworth Park. I was the Sheriff of Astra Communications Limited and my objective was to route out more customers for our local business training events.
It was great fun trying to chat to each other while trotting uncontrollably over the hallowed turf of the country park. This was where many famous pop celebrities had previously blasted their tunes across the great outdoors, singing to thousands of appreciative music fans. Success for our posse, however, was determined by whether or not you fell off your horse giggling, or if you booked yourself onto the next round-up event.
There was always quality feedback from our posse folk who often took the opportunity to comment on how well we had managed to pair up the person with a suitable horse. This of course was part of the message going out to all new prospects… matching the provider of training services to their customers was vitally important, something we were keen to uphold.
Our business strategy around the posse was to groom new prospects into believing plus actually feeling they were always likely to receive superior service. We were demonstrating that this would be the case before, during and after they signed up for some personal development training, for themselves and their corporate colleagues. This strategy always proved to be a winner of Rolling Stones proportions!
As a small business enterprise we were having to compete with the multi-million giants of the training/learning world. Market innovation and personal delivery were keys to our success in the market. We were always having to look way ahead for the carrot, rarely glancing back to check for the stick. Our tight-knit team of entrepreneurial developers were confident in their ‘saddle of service’, ensuring our powerful beast of business was in the hands of competent leadership.
The very nature of Astra Communications, our business, was ultimately to be defined by that of the sheriff’s horse, a friendly giant of a shire called Webster. He was the only one left in the stables after the customers had been saddled-up. Clearly he was meant for me. In fact after the posse I was told that he was due to be sold the following week because he was too big for most events, especially with nervous and inexperienced riders.
It won’t be a surprise for you to read that I invested in Webster the very next day. He was so perfectly matched for me to lead the posse for ever. Please excuse me for indulging in his brilliant appearance, character and behaviour as he represented to me much more than the business side of life – I actually loved him for his giving nature and his deep trust of my care for him from early morning to sun-down every day.
Jet black, standing over eighteen hands tall with white socks, Webster stood out at any event and indeed won rosettes to prove it. He won the hearts of everyone who had the pleasure of being introduced to him. How could such a big animal be so well behaved, so friendly and effective as our business representative? The answer to that question can only be that he must have been very well trained.
We got along just fine. Every opportunity that I could create, I took time away from the office and classroom to saddle-up and go for a stroll, and sometimes a hair-raising gallop across the open fields near Dunton in Bedfordshire. Oh my goodness, could he sprint with me on his back! We shared some wonderful times and only once had a surprise unseating while doing a fast cantor through woodland; a fallen tree across our path spooked him somewhat, (possibly thought it was a snake) causing him to do an emergency stop for which I wasn’t prepared and strapped-in. Over his massive neck I sailed, head first into the undergrowth where I lay for enough time to recognise it was definitely my fault. He waited for me to compose myself before we agreed to be more careful next time, then off we went back home to a nice warm bed and yet another new bale of hay for supper. This would see him through the night while I would prepare for the next business day plus the early morning mucking-out of my best friend.
Looking ahead for me meant planning, planning for business, for everyday life and beyond. My best friend and I did this differently. I hoped for a long and enjoyable life supported by my business activities, whereas, sadly, Webby could only expect to life the high life for about twenty years before he had to make way for the next star turn on the shire-horse stage.
What a terribly difficult situation confronted me as Webby grew older; should I keep him until the bitter end or hand him over to a friendly public-farm manager who would let him enjoy his remaining years, serving the many hundreds of visiting children, by pulling a cart and giving free rides around the farm? I gave him the choice and he moved on to save me the heavy cost of hay and new shoes every month.
Always loyally serving his master, Webster performed with his unique blend of spirit and gentleness to the end of his life, only seeing me on visiting days to bring him a carrot or two. I brought my family to say “hello” and “goodbye” to my old friend, tears streaming from my eyes as I let go of the last carrot – his final reward for outstanding customer service.
Sometimes it is difficult to differentiate between the happiness of serving others and the sadness of when you have to stop. That’s business. That’s life.
