I heard the sound of a horse's hooves coming down the road this morning, clear as a sparkle of cut-glass. Iran to the window.

I love horses, their velvety lips, the way they toss their heads, their smell, their serenity. I feel energisedwhenI've been close to a horse.

William and Catherine Sivell,my grandparents, were the licensees of the Black Horse Hotel, Pontardulais. They were the models for Dadda and Mamma in my novel, 'Salt Blue'.

My grandfather had a riding school, too,and kept horsesin thestablesbehind the Black Horse, where there wasa large field for them tograze.

Every flat surface of my grandparents' home was filledwith pictures of horses and my grandfather used to enter the pony and carriage classes in the local shows.

Harry Llewellyn, Pat Smythe and their mounts stayed in Pontardulais with them, at various times

My daughter, Kate, had a pony, too. When she outgrew Amber, we agreed Amber would be soldonly to someone we knew, who would care for her and this is what happened. We still talk nostalgically of Amber and have her pictureon the wall.

There are plenty of animal lovers around, not just horse lovers. Pooches who live near me have collars that light up when they take their nightly constitutional, they haveregular trims and manicures atthe pooch parlourand live oncooked liver, chicken breast, sausages and other delicacies.

What riles me is animal crueltyand some of the worst instancesoccurat horse racing events.For this reason, I never watchhorse racing andI take especial exceptionto the Grand National.

Recently, I heard of a horse whipped so much during somebig race or other that it had collapsed and had to be given oxygen to revive it. (I've hunted for this reference, butcan't find it at the moment, but there areplenty ofother shocking incidents to use as illustration).

At the American course at Belmont, a few weeks ago, Cape Blanco was whipped twenty one times.

If this and the other incident I mentioned had occurred anywhere other than on a race course, the perpetrators would have been prosecuted, but as it is 'sport', they get called before the Stewards, have a ticking off (a metaphorical slap across the wrists) and are banned from a few races.

After the big races, the jockey, the trainer and the owner are all interviewed on television and congratulated. I wonder if they and the gelatinous televison interviewer would enjoy a run around the track, accompanied bya sound whipping.How much faster would they run then?

There'sthe old argument that horses enjoy racing butI cannot see how it follows that they should be whipped. A skilled jockey can urgehorses on by using toes, ankles, knees and the reins. That is what is meant by the art of riding.

The 'Sport of Kings' can be barbaric. Because big money is involved,insiders don't care about animal welfare.Therefore, those who have a conscience should show their disapproval by shunning these events. Anythingelse iscomplicity.