In the sixties we used to go to The Duke Inn, Duke Street, right opposite the Police Stables. There was a great honky-tonk pianist called Fred, who came from Perry Barr, and of a Saturday night there was a wonderful sing-along. Given that me and my friends had hair down to our waists and hippie-style dress, you'd have thought that the regulars at The Duke would've been just a trifle put out, but they weren't. Especially as we knew loads of old music-hall songs, which Fred could always pick up after a bar or two. The all-time favourite was 'Lily Of Laguna', always saved until last.
Most Saturdays the coppers from the stables would come in, and they were a great crowd. I particularly remember one sad night when one of the horses had died, and there was a very solemn and moving memorial to him (I wish I could remember that horse's name, but I can't). The cop whose horse it was, was in tears.
My other memory of police-horses was how they kept things peaceful at Villa Park, just leaning gently against the crowd as we queued to get into the turnstyles.
Another world, or so it seems to me now.
Big Gee