Wendy van Breda shares her memories of dearly-departed friend, Shelagh McCutcheon

There she was, standing cross-legged, and leaning on the paddock gate, chin cupped in her hand, face turned sideways not unlike a stern school mistress, to check me out as I drove up the long sand driveway to the stable yard at Broadlands.

“Oh my goodness, what am I in for…”, I wondered in silent trepidation. This was my baptism of fire in 2004, upon my first meeting with Shelagh.

Little did I know that, 20 years later, I would be at her side as she spent her last days, our friendship having grown to one of great beauty and meaning.

You see, our common thread was the magnificent Mr McBee, the beautiful colt who, upon retiring from racing, graced my life with extraordinary richness.

And it was him for whom I was being “interviewed”, as he was about to run his last race.

Shelagh entered my life as a mentor, the over-seer of McBee. Her advice, her guidance, and sensitive direction was immeasurable.

This relationship changed fairly rapidly into one of deep friendship, the type that is never questioned, never taken for granted, but one that is rooted in the deep soil of trust.

She has held the title of “legend”, and not undeservedly so. She was one of the first women jockeys in South Africa, and she was a founding member of the South African Riding for the Disabled Association. She, along with the other legendary Pat O’Neal, was a very successful breeder and owner of many winners, and she was well known for caring and saving destitute animals.

There is probably much more to be said about this wonderful friend that I have had the privilege of sharing precious time with.

That includes her indomitable persona, her sense of humour, her amazing memories shared gladly, and her gentle humility.

But I leave some of that for later, when we can once again meet “on the other side”. Thank you, my very dear friend, and I honour you for a life well lived.

● From Kim Pannell, Shelagh’s niece, on behalf of the family in New Zealand; Toni McCutcheon Jenkinson, Shelagh’s only sibling; and Jo Pannell, her other niece:

Shelagh was my favourite aunt, and I told her this every time I talked to her.

I was her favourite “eldest” niece, and for as long as I can remember, we’ve had a video call date for my Sunday night in NZ, and her Sunday morning.

This started about 25 years ago when I moved to the UK, we talked for an hour easily, never running out of things to talk about, and always laughing about the silliest things. Shelagh was the aunty everyone wanted, the one who had no children of her own but I think collected about seven god-children, and was everyone’s favourite.

She taught my sister and I to ride a Vespa scooter up the main drive of Broadlands, when we were barely old enough for our feet to touch the ground. We’d spend holidays at Broadlands and be up at 4.30am to go with her to the racing stables to feed the horses, helping her scoop the correct food into the horse buckets.

We’d spend the days with her checking the horses on the race track, checking on new foals, feeding what seemed like millions of farm dogs and cats in the kitchen, then moving to the cages dotted around the property feeding monkeys, birds, donkeys, and whatever else there was.

Breakfasts often involved sharing our last bit of toast with two free-flying macaws who would perch on the table in anticipation. She taught me how to whistle – the sound of which pierces the ruckus at a sport stadium with ease.

She was one of the best parts of our lives growing up, and one of the best parts of our lives when visiting us either in New Zealand or in the UK. Her trips to New Zealand became frequent and something that we all looked so forward to, and we were fortunate to have many of these trips with incredible memories.

The most recent, and last trip, being a six-month trip (2022/2023), where we packed the days full of her favourite things – any excuse for champagne, building 1 000-piece puzzles in my lounge, enjoying little trips around New Zealand, so that she had an amazing time with all the family, knowing that it was possibly her last trip.

Shelagh was the epitome of gracious, humble and genuine. Qualities that are rare these days, and ones that she always displayed. She never had much in terms of wealth in her life, but was happy with whatever she had and never complained. She worked so hard, her entire life, for the love of what she was doing, not for any money earned.

She had many acquaintances and wonderful friends, and we are just so fortunate to have had her in our lives for as many years as we did. The hole that she leaves is tangible but the memories that we have of her colourful life will remain with us always.

● From Chris Mauerberger, custodian: Bellingham Homestead:

Shelagh and I met in 1990 at Broadlands where she lived and was Pat Cavendish O’Neil’s right hand. These two formidable ladies, both legends in the Somerset West area, bred racehorses at Broadlands Stud and provided homes for any stray animals that were presented to them. At one stage they had over 20 dogs that they had rescued.

I was often invited to the very festive lunches at Broadlands, which besides being delicious, and always attended by interesting and amusing guests, hosted by Pat and Shelagh, were on several occasions, “gate-crashed” by the resident baboons who appeared not only to be after the food but also the beautiful jewellery worn by some of the guests.

Shelagh moved to Bellingham Estate in February 2023, where she lived until her passing on Sunday May 19. She leaves a huge gap in all our lives but we were able to ensure that she died peacefully at home, surrounded by her close friends, with Tony at her bedside, and her little dog Riley, a source of constant joy and delight to her.

Shelagh, thank you for the last 15 months, you made Bellingham an even more special place and were the perfect matriarch to all of us residents. We shall miss you.

● Shelagh started working at Broadlands in the early 1970s to help Lady Kenmare, who had moved out from Kenya, with riding of race-horses they’d brought out from Kenya.

She initially worked on the farm riding, three days a week, while running a riding school in Somerset West, until the time that Pat and Frank went to get married in Kenya, and asked for her to move into the house at Broadlands to look after Pat’s mother, Lady Kenmare. She never left.

One night in the 1980s, Shelagh and her best friend Esmé, heard a noise outside and on investigating, came face to face with an intruder. Esmé pulled out her gun and confronted the man, and he ran off.

They became known as the “gun-toting grannies”.

Prince and Princess Michael of Kent, and their children visited for lunch, and one of the children carried one of Shelagh’s Pekinese dogs around. Someone told her that if royalty wanted anything, they could just take it.

So Shelagh quickly walked up to the child and grabbed the dog in case the child tried to take it with her! RIP.