Training partners

Those that know me are aware that I am trying to gain a bit of extra fitness to equip me for a big physical challenge I've set myself later in the year. Unlike others, say Mo Farrell and Sir Brad, I have minor trials and tribulations that seem to get in the way of a seamless training plan. Mo (no I am not in anyway comparing myself to an elite athlete, just bear with) does not have to start a run hopping after a dog that has taken a fancy to his trainer and is intent on hiding it up the Bonsai Mountain, Brad has never driven over his own bike before a ride, or found a puppy asleep on his best cycling jersey, or had pigs chew his tyres, no, I reckon that's a dead cert bet that neither of them have ever had to put up with anything like that.
Today took pre training setbacks to a new level. Having done the early circuit of the Bonsai Mountain (training mostly has to fulfill two purposes, so hike =dog walk, road bike sprint=commute to work, again Mo and Brad don't have to justify time spent sweating) I got my second road bike (Boardman has now been officially demoted to wet weather trainer) out of the stable and placed it carefully against the wall outside HQ while I got my kit on.
Enter stage left Chester the thoroughbred. Clearly Chester had something on his mind this  morning, namely an itchy arse crack, which is why he was observed by yours truly squatting on bike handlebars and working his backside up and down in a vigorous ooooh nearly there fashion.
Now I might be the fat lad at the back in many road races but I am certain that while my bike can put up with my weight, a thoroughbred horse with an itchy bum is an entirely different prospect and he needed to be stopped before irreparable damage was caused to one or both of them.
Enter stage right yours truly.
Chester having noted my less than amused expression contemplated fight or flight and when the latter connected with his one functioning brain cell he took off like he would have had he been starting the Cheltenham Gold Cup. Unfortunately for us both his tail forgot that the front end had decided to leave the bike alone so remained wrapped around various sticky out bits of said bike and it followed.
The sensation of a bike chasing him ignited some primeval survival template in the dopey equine and all I could do was watch as bike bounced off floor, wall, Ruby, fence, floor, finally flying free where it scythed through a brace of surprised Berners. Miraculously, and for once, instead of carnage and destruction there was minimal damage to all concerned. Horse had hurt pride, dogs same and bike had a slight bend in the handlebars and a few extra scratches. The commute to work was without incident.