Sometimes things are so flippin’ obvious that I want to slap myself on the forehead when I finally realise I’ve been wilfully obtuse.
Miserable day here, today; strong winds and rain. It’s still relatively mild, but with the damp, there’s a chill that settles into the bones.
My day off from yard work, so I puttered around at home for a while before going to see Max. I can never leave it too late, though, in case he’s run out of hay and nobody’s noticed.
From his appearance, dry rug/wet face, I knew he’d been hanging his head out of his box trying to catch somebody’s attention, or on the lookout for me, the walking feedbag.
“’Scuse I! Hello? No food in here. Ate it. Where’s more? Thankyouplease? Hello?”
Topped him up, for which he was very grateful, and then settled in to a grooming session.
There were electricians in the indoor school, which put paid to any notion I had of taking Max in for a bit of work. Just as well, because I didn’t really want to. The school doesn’t half rattle and bang in a strong wind, and I know we wouldn’t accomplish much with the distraction.
Instead, we did some clicker training in his box. Once we began, Max turned his back on his hay and faced me square on, with an intent look in his eyes. I love that look! He seems to be really concentrating, trying to figure out what I’m asking him to do.
We started off with kisses, because it was easy. The hard part was not offering the click if I hadn’t asked for the kiss.
We played a bit with that, and “Show me your teeth”, but it was just clowning around, really.
Then when he focused again, waiting for my next request, I gestured to my left and said “Max, left!”
His head turned first and then, clever boy, he started to turn to the left and take a couple of steps. What an enthusiastic response he got to that!
That’s when his look changes, a bit. He almost imperceptibly shakes his head, as if to say “Not sure what I did, but it was good and there’s a pony nut coming!”
Tried again, and he repeated the action, so more praise.
We tried right then with the same arm movement, and he looked to his right, but didn’t turn and take the steps. OK though, it’s just a little movement that needs to be encouraged, so I was still pleased.
And that is where I should have stopped. But I didn’t (not to mention not thinking through that my left is Max's right, so how do I transfer to the saddle? Do a reverse in my head?)
In my enthusiasm for Max’s willing attention, for the look on his face, for the little head shakes of confused delight, I kept going, throwing new things into the mix and Max’s responses, as a result, became more hazy, his confusion more evident.
We were still having fun; there was no tension or weirdness, but we just weren’t getting anywhere.
It took me thinking it over on the drive home to figure it out. I was reassessing, and thinking he started off so well, but then just trailed off and suddenly realised that I’d asked for too many different things.
I should have stuck to the turns to each side, and left it at that. Kind of a “rinse and repeat” thing. Pretty darned obvious once I stopped to consider.
Well, it’s all about learning, isn’t it? And not just Max learning.
No harm, no foul. I’ll know better next time and resolve to not overwhelm my boy just because he’s receptive and eager.
Thursday 31 January 2008
Tuesday 29 January 2008
The Kissing Bandit
Uh oh! Max is stealing kisses from innocent villagers! Well, villagers, anyway.
Was told this morning that a mum walking her kids home from school called over to Max in his field. He recognised her, came over to the fence to say hello, and shoved his whiskery muzzle in her face to steal a kiss!
She was charmed, of course. And luckily she knows Max well (everybody seems to), knew it was his new trick, and was not offended or dented. So more work on ignoring unasked for behaviour so he gets it straight in his head and stops assaulting people with his affections.
We had a good day today. Decided to longline him in his saddle, so that I could do some ridden trot work after our session.
He was a bit bemused by the new set up, but went really well for me, was responsive, and got lots of praise.
Trotting about was a different story. He was in a good humour and very full of himself. We went round and round, snorting, occasional head tosses and little attempts to canter. I laughed a lot and he expressed himself with mischief and eagerness. He’s obviously feeling really well.
I have to look at one thing though, and that is my saying “Good!” in a certain tone seems to bring him to a dead stop with no other aid. This must be something to do with clicker training, in that he recognises “Good” as a “click” rather than just the click itself, so stops to await his reward.
Will have to think about this and unlearn the behaviour because it was a shame to immediately lose what I’d just praised him for. But my fault, not his, so we’ll just have to work round it.
Was told this morning that a mum walking her kids home from school called over to Max in his field. He recognised her, came over to the fence to say hello, and shoved his whiskery muzzle in her face to steal a kiss!
She was charmed, of course. And luckily she knows Max well (everybody seems to), knew it was his new trick, and was not offended or dented. So more work on ignoring unasked for behaviour so he gets it straight in his head and stops assaulting people with his affections.
We had a good day today. Decided to longline him in his saddle, so that I could do some ridden trot work after our session.
He was a bit bemused by the new set up, but went really well for me, was responsive, and got lots of praise.
Trotting about was a different story. He was in a good humour and very full of himself. We went round and round, snorting, occasional head tosses and little attempts to canter. I laughed a lot and he expressed himself with mischief and eagerness. He’s obviously feeling really well.
I have to look at one thing though, and that is my saying “Good!” in a certain tone seems to bring him to a dead stop with no other aid. This must be something to do with clicker training, in that he recognises “Good” as a “click” rather than just the click itself, so stops to await his reward.
Will have to think about this and unlearn the behaviour because it was a shame to immediately lose what I’d just praised him for. But my fault, not his, so we’ll just have to work round it.
Monday 28 January 2008
Kiss me, you fool!
Well, Max has got the kissing trick down pat, and no mistake. He’s also adapted the “gently!” warning, so I’m no longer in fear of having my teeth knocked out with his eager affections (not for me so much as the pony nut).
We’re now incorporating a slight elaboration on this trick, which is “Show me your teeth”. I’m not sure how it came about, or even if it’s useful (might be), but that’s where we are. He hasn’t twigged what I want yet, but he’s caught on to everything else quickly enough, so I’m sure he’ll be baring his gnashers to all and sundry in no time.
All this larking about was due to a split session in the school. I decided to work him loose today, but when two Other Horses joined us in the school after only ten minutes, we gave up and left it to lark about in his box for a bit.
At least we’d had 20 minutes of walking and a bit of trotting, so warm up was done.
I groomed him, and then used the time to try some clicker training, concentrating on the teeth, and trying to get him to raise alternate front feet. Well, “raise” is putting too fine a point on it. Right now, any movement at all is to be encouraged, really.
Back to the school when it was free, and we just had some fun with trotting and cantering on voice. Still not so good on direction, but I’m standing further away from him now, and we’re keeping the whole thing going a lot longer before Max just gets himself tangled into ever decreasing circles at speed.
It was a good day. Nothing intense, I’m sure some would wryly observe that it was a waste of time as we didn’t get up to much, but for Max and me, it was hanging out time with a little schooling. Nowt wrong with that, in our books.
Was going to try and get him to race me to the end of the school and back at the very end of it, but as he’d had his roll, he declared himself done, he bade me race my own self back and forth while he watched with bemusement.
We’re now incorporating a slight elaboration on this trick, which is “Show me your teeth”. I’m not sure how it came about, or even if it’s useful (might be), but that’s where we are. He hasn’t twigged what I want yet, but he’s caught on to everything else quickly enough, so I’m sure he’ll be baring his gnashers to all and sundry in no time.
All this larking about was due to a split session in the school. I decided to work him loose today, but when two Other Horses joined us in the school after only ten minutes, we gave up and left it to lark about in his box for a bit.
At least we’d had 20 minutes of walking and a bit of trotting, so warm up was done.
I groomed him, and then used the time to try some clicker training, concentrating on the teeth, and trying to get him to raise alternate front feet. Well, “raise” is putting too fine a point on it. Right now, any movement at all is to be encouraged, really.
Back to the school when it was free, and we just had some fun with trotting and cantering on voice. Still not so good on direction, but I’m standing further away from him now, and we’re keeping the whole thing going a lot longer before Max just gets himself tangled into ever decreasing circles at speed.
It was a good day. Nothing intense, I’m sure some would wryly observe that it was a waste of time as we didn’t get up to much, but for Max and me, it was hanging out time with a little schooling. Nowt wrong with that, in our books.
Was going to try and get him to race me to the end of the school and back at the very end of it, but as he’d had his roll, he declared himself done, he bade me race my own self back and forth while he watched with bemusement.
Sunday 27 January 2008
At long last, laughter
The Ent and I sat in bed drinking coffee this morning, with him asking me about how horses show affection, and the difference between cats and horses, and I think trying to find a way to connect with Max the way he had connected with Arizona.
We talked for a long time, reminisced, and he tried to get a feeling from me of what Max gives me, how he reacts to me, how I know when he's happy, how he expresses himself generally.
The Ent wanted to go for a run today, but we decided that before he did that, he'd come out with Max and me, me riding, and Ent walking.
We've had such a good day! I'm so delighted with my boy, and loving my gentle, quiet husband.
The Ent did pretty much all the grooming, and he does a proper job of it. Left to his own devices (I try not to correct or interfere), he and Max just get on with it, and he is gentle, keeps talking to him, and they are perfectly content. Max gives none of the grumping, huffing or face pulling that I have to suffer when I groom him.
We saddled up, and rode out, Max eagerly following The Ent, and were out for a good couple of hours, mostly walking, but Max chose to trot now and again, and we even had a little canter, when we trotted away from The Ent along a field, and then I turned Max back to face The Ent and said, "Go get him!"
It is quite touching how Max looks to him for security on these walks, and I think today, The Ent finally saw it. We went along in the sunshine, Max quite relaxed, me, finally relaxed, and The Ent and I laughing together as Max clowned and did his comedy pony stuff.
It was an absolute tonic for all of us. I'm still anxious, but I did let some of that anxiety go today, and The Ent definitely moved up a step in his affection for our scruffy pony, as he observed more closely and saw the signs of affection that Max gives, saw the difference between scared and relaxed, and at one point, when scrambler bikes descended and Max recoiled, The Ent turned to him and said "It's OK, Max, I'm here with you. Walk on" and Max nudged his shoulder and then did as he was asked.
The Ent was talking about his planned run, and how far he was going to go, and Max stopped dead and turned his head to look him in the eye. "Really? Are you mad?"
So The Ent is finally starting to “get” it, and my Max is definitely a healing horse. They all are, I know, but I watched it in action today.
We talked for a long time, reminisced, and he tried to get a feeling from me of what Max gives me, how he reacts to me, how I know when he's happy, how he expresses himself generally.
The Ent wanted to go for a run today, but we decided that before he did that, he'd come out with Max and me, me riding, and Ent walking.
We've had such a good day! I'm so delighted with my boy, and loving my gentle, quiet husband.
The Ent did pretty much all the grooming, and he does a proper job of it. Left to his own devices (I try not to correct or interfere), he and Max just get on with it, and he is gentle, keeps talking to him, and they are perfectly content. Max gives none of the grumping, huffing or face pulling that I have to suffer when I groom him.
We saddled up, and rode out, Max eagerly following The Ent, and were out for a good couple of hours, mostly walking, but Max chose to trot now and again, and we even had a little canter, when we trotted away from The Ent along a field, and then I turned Max back to face The Ent and said, "Go get him!"
It is quite touching how Max looks to him for security on these walks, and I think today, The Ent finally saw it. We went along in the sunshine, Max quite relaxed, me, finally relaxed, and The Ent and I laughing together as Max clowned and did his comedy pony stuff.
It was an absolute tonic for all of us. I'm still anxious, but I did let some of that anxiety go today, and The Ent definitely moved up a step in his affection for our scruffy pony, as he observed more closely and saw the signs of affection that Max gives, saw the difference between scared and relaxed, and at one point, when scrambler bikes descended and Max recoiled, The Ent turned to him and said "It's OK, Max, I'm here with you. Walk on" and Max nudged his shoulder and then did as he was asked.
The Ent was talking about his planned run, and how far he was going to go, and Max stopped dead and turned his head to look him in the eye. "Really? Are you mad?"
So The Ent is finally starting to “get” it, and my Max is definitely a healing horse. They all are, I know, but I watched it in action today.
Saturday 26 January 2008
Over-protective mum syndrome
That’s me!
After the yardwork, the Ent came over so we could take Max out for a walk together.
There was lots of shooting going on nearby, and Max had already scared the poop out of himself in his box, so I was wary about taking him in hand somewhere that we might lose him, after the fiasco a couple of weekends ago with the clay pigeon shoot.
We decided to walk him through the village, and up to the field on the other side, far from the noise, and where we were unlikely to meet other horses.
I regretted it almost instantly. The village road winds round and about, which means traffic should be slow (but isn’t). It also means there are lots of blind spots.
I walked anxiously alongside Max, my hand resting on his withers, while the Ent led him.
Max was big eyed and holding himself with some tension, but I think that was excitement at seeing new stuff as much as uncertainty about unfamiliar territory.
We crossed over the road to a small lane which led to fields and the Downs. I saw two riders following us, and said worriedly to Ent, “They’ll probably come this way, won’t they?”
“Maybe. Does it matter?”
“Not really,” I said, but what I thought was, yes, it matters. What if Max wants to follow them? What if they scare him? What if he gets away from us and runs on to the road?
We kept walking, though I was starting to feel anxious.
Max stopped abruptly at the sound of a chainsaw ahead. The Ent tried to coax him on, and Max tried to spin.
I was calm for a little, instructed the Ent to walk him forward a few steps and straighten him out. We stood again.
“Let’s take him back.” I said.
“He’ll be fine!”
“No, he doesn’t like the noise ahead.”
“He needs to learn…”
“Not today.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t handle anything happening to him now. I can’t.”
The Ent nodded, finally understanding.
We turned, and re-traced our steps, then took Max on a different walk on familiar, less busy lanes and bridleways.
That’s when I suggested that I was an overprotective mum. Not generally, but now. I feel heightened anxiety, having just lost Arizona. The same thing happened when Arizona’s mate, my beautiful MacDuff, died years ago. I just about wrapped Arizona in cotton wool for a few days until I finally shook off the anxious feeling that he’d leave me too, and decided it was more important for him to have a happy life he enjoyed, than to be curtailed by my need for him to remain unharmed and with me.
So I will ease up in a few days, but I think for now, I should not think of trying anything new with Max until I’m feeling more like myself again.
After the yardwork, the Ent came over so we could take Max out for a walk together.
There was lots of shooting going on nearby, and Max had already scared the poop out of himself in his box, so I was wary about taking him in hand somewhere that we might lose him, after the fiasco a couple of weekends ago with the clay pigeon shoot.
We decided to walk him through the village, and up to the field on the other side, far from the noise, and where we were unlikely to meet other horses.
I regretted it almost instantly. The village road winds round and about, which means traffic should be slow (but isn’t). It also means there are lots of blind spots.
I walked anxiously alongside Max, my hand resting on his withers, while the Ent led him.
Max was big eyed and holding himself with some tension, but I think that was excitement at seeing new stuff as much as uncertainty about unfamiliar territory.
We crossed over the road to a small lane which led to fields and the Downs. I saw two riders following us, and said worriedly to Ent, “They’ll probably come this way, won’t they?”
“Maybe. Does it matter?”
“Not really,” I said, but what I thought was, yes, it matters. What if Max wants to follow them? What if they scare him? What if he gets away from us and runs on to the road?
We kept walking, though I was starting to feel anxious.
Max stopped abruptly at the sound of a chainsaw ahead. The Ent tried to coax him on, and Max tried to spin.
I was calm for a little, instructed the Ent to walk him forward a few steps and straighten him out. We stood again.
“Let’s take him back.” I said.
“He’ll be fine!”
“No, he doesn’t like the noise ahead.”
“He needs to learn…”
“Not today.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t handle anything happening to him now. I can’t.”
The Ent nodded, finally understanding.
We turned, and re-traced our steps, then took Max on a different walk on familiar, less busy lanes and bridleways.
That’s when I suggested that I was an overprotective mum. Not generally, but now. I feel heightened anxiety, having just lost Arizona. The same thing happened when Arizona’s mate, my beautiful MacDuff, died years ago. I just about wrapped Arizona in cotton wool for a few days until I finally shook off the anxious feeling that he’d leave me too, and decided it was more important for him to have a happy life he enjoyed, than to be curtailed by my need for him to remain unharmed and with me.
So I will ease up in a few days, but I think for now, I should not think of trying anything new with Max until I’m feeling more like myself again.
Friday 25 January 2008
Out of step
I'm wrecking Max. He'll never be the same; he's ruined beyond repair!
Not really, but things aren't good at the moment. I rode him bareback today, and God, what a trial. I'm so sure it was down to me and not him. We had the same problem in the saddle yesterday, but amplified today.
I'm not really worried about it, so I'm not down on myself. I expect I'm not clear right now, and that's to be expected. I would have laughed if I had much mirth in me.
We were in the indoor school, and he just wasn't doing anything I asked. I would ask him to walk on (so easy, he always does it just on voice!) and instead he'd just stand there, and then hesitantly take a couple of steps back. It was like he was saying, "I know you mean to ask for walk, but you're actually asking me to back up, so... Um... Maybe you do mean back up? I'll try it. Oops! No?"
I truly must have been doing something to ask for backing up, because it happened again and again, and I don't think he was playing up. I just didn't feel right on him anyway. God knows what I'm transmitting to him. Horses are so sensitive, not just to the feel of us physically, but to the feel of us emotionally, and it was so clear Max wasn't being naughty. I think he just couldn't get a clear idea of what I wanted. No surprise, because I don't have a clear idea just now, either.
So we did a couple of good trots (was hard work getting him to trot at all) and I cut things short and took him for a walk instead.
He really has lost a bit of his confidence out of the school, so we'll build on that again. Our walk, though windy, was fraught with Max on high alert. My fault again, I think. He probably senses I'm not totally there with him. I've no doubt that he's catching my grief and doesn't quite know how to respond. He's trying so hard to do the right thing, but he doesn't know what it is. He's a young boy, and not worldly wise yet, but he knows something has rocked my world, and he doesn't know how to react or compensate for that.
For all that didn't go quite right with Max in the school or on our walk, we had a great time in his box, grooming and playing, and he's offering me so many kisses, and even suffered a hug when I told him I really needed one. He's such a comfort to me now, and is the only thing that's made me laugh these past few days.
Not really, but things aren't good at the moment. I rode him bareback today, and God, what a trial. I'm so sure it was down to me and not him. We had the same problem in the saddle yesterday, but amplified today.
I'm not really worried about it, so I'm not down on myself. I expect I'm not clear right now, and that's to be expected. I would have laughed if I had much mirth in me.
We were in the indoor school, and he just wasn't doing anything I asked. I would ask him to walk on (so easy, he always does it just on voice!) and instead he'd just stand there, and then hesitantly take a couple of steps back. It was like he was saying, "I know you mean to ask for walk, but you're actually asking me to back up, so... Um... Maybe you do mean back up? I'll try it. Oops! No?"
I truly must have been doing something to ask for backing up, because it happened again and again, and I don't think he was playing up. I just didn't feel right on him anyway. God knows what I'm transmitting to him. Horses are so sensitive, not just to the feel of us physically, but to the feel of us emotionally, and it was so clear Max wasn't being naughty. I think he just couldn't get a clear idea of what I wanted. No surprise, because I don't have a clear idea just now, either.
So we did a couple of good trots (was hard work getting him to trot at all) and I cut things short and took him for a walk instead.
He really has lost a bit of his confidence out of the school, so we'll build on that again. Our walk, though windy, was fraught with Max on high alert. My fault again, I think. He probably senses I'm not totally there with him. I've no doubt that he's catching my grief and doesn't quite know how to respond. He's trying so hard to do the right thing, but he doesn't know what it is. He's a young boy, and not worldly wise yet, but he knows something has rocked my world, and he doesn't know how to react or compensate for that.
For all that didn't go quite right with Max in the school or on our walk, we had a great time in his box, grooming and playing, and he's offering me so many kisses, and even suffered a hug when I told him I really needed one. He's such a comfort to me now, and is the only thing that's made me laugh these past few days.
Thursday 24 January 2008
But I REALLY have to go!
Another day in a fog, still suffering the loss of my dear cat. The house is so empty and quiet, and reminds me with every glance that Arizona is not here. I haven’t got round to all the cleaning yet. His bowls are washed and put away, his littler box is cleaned, but there is nowhere to put it but where it has always sat, so it still sits there, unused.
All the corners where he used to curl up, especially on the couch, next to me, as I typed on my lap top, practically holler at me that Arizona is gone. It feels like an assault that comes in wave after wave.
I went to the yard later than usual, and I did find some relief there. Max had his comedy hat on and was playful, but a bit rough. I stopped him and told him that I was very happy to see him, but very sad at heart. “Shall I tell you a story of an old tabby cat?” I asked him.
For whatever reason, whether Max picked up the vibe I know not, he “gentled down” and became quite still and soft with me.
I spent a long time grooming him, just loving the feel and smell of him, and the comforting sound of him eating his hay while I brushed him.
Saddled up, and took him for a walk down the lane to warm up, then into the school for lots of trotting again.
We had a repeat performance on Monday’s trotting work-out. He definitely was NOT into it and on a few occasions just stopped.
I was trying to work out if I was doing something different, if I was telling him to stop with my seat, whether my balance was shifting so as to make him uncomfortable, whether his saddle was causing any irritation.
Well, it wasn’t the saddle, I know that, so I thought it must be down to me.
We got there in the end though, he was much happier when I stopped rising trot and went to sitting, so we did a couple of good circuits of that, then walk, stand and off I got, loosened his girth and told him he was a good boy.
We got back to his box, and immediately I took his tack off, he went up on his back toes for a wee, a look of great relief on his face.
“Why didn’t you say you had to go, Max?”
“Get out! Stop looking at me! Shoo!”
“But you can do that when I’m on your back, you know.”
“Are you still here?”
I left him to it and retrieved his carrots from the car for his stretches, which were happily accepted, all forgiven.
Not sure why he won’t “go” when I’m on his back. He has only done it once in the time I’ve had him, and that was after a very exciting canter.
His next door neighbour won’t go in his box at all, which makes him pretty good to muck out, but he’s desperate to get to his field in the afternoon to let it go.
One of life’s little mysteries, I guess.
All the corners where he used to curl up, especially on the couch, next to me, as I typed on my lap top, practically holler at me that Arizona is gone. It feels like an assault that comes in wave after wave.
I went to the yard later than usual, and I did find some relief there. Max had his comedy hat on and was playful, but a bit rough. I stopped him and told him that I was very happy to see him, but very sad at heart. “Shall I tell you a story of an old tabby cat?” I asked him.
For whatever reason, whether Max picked up the vibe I know not, he “gentled down” and became quite still and soft with me.
I spent a long time grooming him, just loving the feel and smell of him, and the comforting sound of him eating his hay while I brushed him.
Saddled up, and took him for a walk down the lane to warm up, then into the school for lots of trotting again.
We had a repeat performance on Monday’s trotting work-out. He definitely was NOT into it and on a few occasions just stopped.
I was trying to work out if I was doing something different, if I was telling him to stop with my seat, whether my balance was shifting so as to make him uncomfortable, whether his saddle was causing any irritation.
Well, it wasn’t the saddle, I know that, so I thought it must be down to me.
We got there in the end though, he was much happier when I stopped rising trot and went to sitting, so we did a couple of good circuits of that, then walk, stand and off I got, loosened his girth and told him he was a good boy.
We got back to his box, and immediately I took his tack off, he went up on his back toes for a wee, a look of great relief on his face.
“Why didn’t you say you had to go, Max?”
“Get out! Stop looking at me! Shoo!”
“But you can do that when I’m on your back, you know.”
“Are you still here?”
I left him to it and retrieved his carrots from the car for his stretches, which were happily accepted, all forgiven.
Not sure why he won’t “go” when I’m on his back. He has only done it once in the time I’ve had him, and that was after a very exciting canter.
His next door neighbour won’t go in his box at all, which makes him pretty good to muck out, but he’s desperate to get to his field in the afternoon to let it go.
One of life’s little mysteries, I guess.
Wednesday 23 January 2008
Arizona R.I.P.
Max won’t mind if I interrupt his story to mention the passing of a great and worthy cat: my own Arizona, aged 20, last night at the vet. After an afternoon of increasing distress, we did what we knew had to be done, and Arizona and I took our last journey together. He died with his head in my hand, while the Ent held his front paw.
A vulgar little tumour was what got him in the end. A silent, hidden enemy that ambushed us, but luckily, one that troubled Arizona only fleetingly. With hindsight, I can see where he may have had a few moments of discomfort in the last year, but nothing significant, nothing that stopped him eating with gusto, playing with his toys, jogging down the corridor for his breakfast in the morning, purring deeply and with great feeling.
I cannot express how much I miss him, less than 24 hours later. I am mute with grief, all words seem too little and too ordinary. I just want to be alone.
I explained to him that in his dotage, he could not go outside after dark because an owl would swoop and carry his bony arse away. We can hear owls at night, in the distance, from our bedroom.
Last night, a lone owl, very close, in the garden, called several times as I got into bed. I lay there in the dark, listening to it.
Fanciful, but I think my Arizona shared one last little joke with me there, and also told me he was fine. No pain, no worry, no regrets about a great life and our time together.
No regrets from me either, other than I wish our critters had a longer life span to match our own, because letting them go is so hard.
I would like to say that Max was all sympathy and understanding, but that, indeed, would be fanciful.
His head was over his stable door when I arrived at the yard, and I thought, “He knows I need him!” then corrected myself with, “He’s hungry”, which was the more accurate statement.
It was true. The hay provided was not up to standard, and he was waiting for me to fix it, which I did. But the “gimme a kiss” was there, without me having to ask for it, and he didn’t mind that I didn’t have a pony nut in payment.
The yard work was slow today – I lacked energy, focus, strength.
These things will come back, but Arizona won’t. Perhaps one day, another cat will delight me, but never replace him. At the moment, the Ent can’t contemplate having another cat here, but I think it’s just what’s needed. Another little soul who needs a good home, and a good home that sorely needs a cat or two.
Good bye, kitten, my kitten. I miss you so...
Tuesday 22 January 2008
Who's more stubborn? Me or thee?
Beautiful day today. A bit of a chill in the air, but beaming sunshine and blue skies, so very pleasant.
Max is back in his lightweight rug, as he was starting to shed wearing his medium. I think we’ll stay with the lightweight for now, help him keep his figure trim (he has a tendency to “curvy”) and hopefully I can save him from the grass muzzle come March/April. My YO is pretty hot on them, and I hate to see Max wearing one, especially when he’s never shown any signs of laminitis, despite living out 24/7 for the first four years of his life, the first three with no exercise, and the fourth with fairly light work.
According to popular opinion, he’s got that “laminitic look” about him. It’s the crest, you see. Cresty neck, it’s a dead-giveaway. The same cresty neck, presumably, that is part of the Norwegian Fjord conformation.
Laminitis is definitely something I don’t want to enter Max’s life, though, and I know it pays to be careful. I will check his feet, I will feel digital pulses, I will watch for all the signs, but I will try to spare him the muzzle if it can be done. His poor face was so rubbed last Spring by the danged thing, and he becomes a bit of a hooligan too, just desperate to get his head down at any opportunity. A muzzle will undo a lot of our good work, and I’m not convinced that it’s necessary.
So, the plan is 20 minutes of ridden trot work every day to get him nice and fit, along with our regular stuff. I’ll keep that up, too, when the Spring grass arrives, and hopefully, vigilance and exercise will be enough.
Today was our first day, and Max is not impressed. We went into the school first of all, and shared first with Turbo, and then with Mini Me, which reduced us to half the school to work in. Not ideal trotting Max on smaller circles when his stifle lock is playing up, but he was fine. One stumble from the front end, but that’s because he was being a lazy git, not picking his feet up.
The whole thing was a struggle today, in fact, with Max quite distracted by the Other Horses, and me getting frustrated by his feckless attitude and distinct lack of interest in anything I might be asking of him.
We got into a right strop at one point
“Max, pay attention!”
Head shake.
“Won’t.”
“Max! You know how to do this.”
“Forgot. My bad.”
“MAX! Get up, you fool!”
“Sorry, did you say ‘stand’?”
We were like that for about half an hour, mostly trotting and bickering amongst ourselves. We stopped for breaks, I let him stretch his neck down and walk, then gathered back up to try the other rein, but today we got no zing.
Left the school and decided to take him down the lane to see the geese to finish things off.
Started off well enough, until we met Other Horses grazing in the field across the lane. We see them pretty much every day, of course, but today they seemed extremely interesting.
Managed to get Max moving on without too much trouble and was just allowing myself a little smile at the thought that this was going to be a good end to our session, when a car came up behind us. The nearest lay-by was right behind us, so rather than trot Max on to the next one and make the driver wait, I turned Max back to allow the car to pass.
Fool that I am!
Our ten minute walk down the lane and back turned into a 30 minute drama. Turning (and turning and turning until he got tired of turning), planting, refusing to move forward, then eventually moving one ickle baby step at a time, pretending to be frightened of a clump of mud on the side of the road.
And yes, I do mean “pretending”. There was no real fear in him. He had had enough, he could see home, and decided that somewhere along the line, there was some mule in his lineage, and today was a good day to show it.
I was tempted to get off and move him on in hand, but decided it wasn’t the best option because in this circumstance, he truly didn’t need me to be his security on the ground.
So we sat. I was lucky there wasn’t traffic because that probably would have forced me to the ground.
Just sitting worked, though. I didn’t speak, I didn’t cajole, I just sat and waited him out, with the occasional quiet, “Walk on, Max”.
“Nope.”
Wait some more. “Walk on Max.”
“Nuh-uh.”
It worked, eventually. Max got bored, gave in and we slowly made our way up the lane, had a look at the geese, and then went back home again at proper walking speed, Max with a spring in his step at last.
Max is back in his lightweight rug, as he was starting to shed wearing his medium. I think we’ll stay with the lightweight for now, help him keep his figure trim (he has a tendency to “curvy”) and hopefully I can save him from the grass muzzle come March/April. My YO is pretty hot on them, and I hate to see Max wearing one, especially when he’s never shown any signs of laminitis, despite living out 24/7 for the first four years of his life, the first three with no exercise, and the fourth with fairly light work.
According to popular opinion, he’s got that “laminitic look” about him. It’s the crest, you see. Cresty neck, it’s a dead-giveaway. The same cresty neck, presumably, that is part of the Norwegian Fjord conformation.
Laminitis is definitely something I don’t want to enter Max’s life, though, and I know it pays to be careful. I will check his feet, I will feel digital pulses, I will watch for all the signs, but I will try to spare him the muzzle if it can be done. His poor face was so rubbed last Spring by the danged thing, and he becomes a bit of a hooligan too, just desperate to get his head down at any opportunity. A muzzle will undo a lot of our good work, and I’m not convinced that it’s necessary.
So, the plan is 20 minutes of ridden trot work every day to get him nice and fit, along with our regular stuff. I’ll keep that up, too, when the Spring grass arrives, and hopefully, vigilance and exercise will be enough.
Today was our first day, and Max is not impressed. We went into the school first of all, and shared first with Turbo, and then with Mini Me, which reduced us to half the school to work in. Not ideal trotting Max on smaller circles when his stifle lock is playing up, but he was fine. One stumble from the front end, but that’s because he was being a lazy git, not picking his feet up.
The whole thing was a struggle today, in fact, with Max quite distracted by the Other Horses, and me getting frustrated by his feckless attitude and distinct lack of interest in anything I might be asking of him.
We got into a right strop at one point
“Max, pay attention!”
Head shake.
“Won’t.”
“Max! You know how to do this.”
“Forgot. My bad.”
“MAX! Get up, you fool!”
“Sorry, did you say ‘stand’?”
We were like that for about half an hour, mostly trotting and bickering amongst ourselves. We stopped for breaks, I let him stretch his neck down and walk, then gathered back up to try the other rein, but today we got no zing.
Left the school and decided to take him down the lane to see the geese to finish things off.
Started off well enough, until we met Other Horses grazing in the field across the lane. We see them pretty much every day, of course, but today they seemed extremely interesting.
Managed to get Max moving on without too much trouble and was just allowing myself a little smile at the thought that this was going to be a good end to our session, when a car came up behind us. The nearest lay-by was right behind us, so rather than trot Max on to the next one and make the driver wait, I turned Max back to allow the car to pass.
Fool that I am!
Our ten minute walk down the lane and back turned into a 30 minute drama. Turning (and turning and turning until he got tired of turning), planting, refusing to move forward, then eventually moving one ickle baby step at a time, pretending to be frightened of a clump of mud on the side of the road.
And yes, I do mean “pretending”. There was no real fear in him. He had had enough, he could see home, and decided that somewhere along the line, there was some mule in his lineage, and today was a good day to show it.
I was tempted to get off and move him on in hand, but decided it wasn’t the best option because in this circumstance, he truly didn’t need me to be his security on the ground.
So we sat. I was lucky there wasn’t traffic because that probably would have forced me to the ground.
Just sitting worked, though. I didn’t speak, I didn’t cajole, I just sat and waited him out, with the occasional quiet, “Walk on, Max”.
“Nope.”
Wait some more. “Walk on Max.”
“Nuh-uh.”
It worked, eventually. Max got bored, gave in and we slowly made our way up the lane, had a look at the geese, and then went back home again at proper walking speed, Max with a spring in his step at last.
Monday 21 January 2008
He's not just pretty, he's smart!
Well, at least it isn’t raining today. Much. Funny how a little drizzle now feels like a dry day. Very chilly breeze though, after the mildness of the weekend.
I’m trying to get Max and I to adjust to what will be my new schedule come February, so am showing up at the yard earlier, spending less time fawning over my boy (though he still gets a check and his marmite on toast first thing), and am working him a little later each day, so when it comes to working him in the afternoons instead of the mornings, he’ll be nonplussed.
Well, he’d be nonplussed anyway. I think this is more for me than him.
I was thinking about setting up a regular rota of what kind of exercise we’d do on specific days, but soon gave that up because that’s just not the way I work with Max. “If this is Wednesday, it must be longlining!”
Depends on the weather, how I’m feeling, how I’m dressed, whether I can be arsed to change from my muck boots to my cold (stored in the car) riding boots, whether the tack room is locked, whether Max is stiff in his hinds, whether I feel his belly is too wet and muddy for a girth or roller, what kind of mood he’s in, what we did yesterday… like that.
I changed my mind three times this morning. I was definitely going to ride him again, then no, I would longline instead, actually, maybe some groundwork in hand.
In the end, we did loose work for about half an hour, and really enjoyed it.
I’m trying to get Max to carry his head a little higher when loose instead of mooching along, and he seems to be getting the hang of it now. I walk along beside him and lift one arm and snap the fingers, saying “Head up, Max!”
He was looking a bit startled and confused by this. He’d lift his head no trouble, but stop moving forward.
So then, with hand still up and fingers still lightly snapping, I’d coax him to “walk on”.
We had a few rather shambolic attempts at this, then I watched as Max’s eyes began to show me that he was getting it.
“Right. So you want head up and walk on. Oh, I see! Yes, I can do that. Pony nut? Looky! I did it again! Pony nut?”
Not perfect, but this was only our second session of trying, so I’m pretty happy with the progress. He’s a clever boy all right.
So on with directional instructions using pointing as well as voice.
This is really just to keep him interested with new stuff, and help me figure out our communication, too.
I’ve started adding motions with voice commands, and he’s starting to pay attention to them. Very good for “walk on”, less good for changing direction.
Eventually I’d like to get to the stage where I can stay in the centre of the school and direct him with voice & body, but that’s a long way off.
What we did manage today, though, was trot poles with me not having to trot over them with him! A first!
He was in his head collar, and we went over side by each a few times, then we walked over with me at a slight distance from the poles and Max going over by himself, with a lot of fuss and praise afterwards.
Finally, I set him up at stand facing the poles and asked for trot. Off he went, over the poles, having figured out that’s what I was getting all enthused about, and there ended the lesson, with a big jackpot for Max.
Let him have a bit of a mooch and a roll afterwards, while I tidied the school, and then back to his box for carrot stretches, lunch, and fresh water.
Really pleased with us today. Lots of co-operation and laughter. He’s also got the “Gimme a kiss” thing down pat, and is regularly offering me his nose so I can plant one on him. Funny boy!
I’m trying to get Max and I to adjust to what will be my new schedule come February, so am showing up at the yard earlier, spending less time fawning over my boy (though he still gets a check and his marmite on toast first thing), and am working him a little later each day, so when it comes to working him in the afternoons instead of the mornings, he’ll be nonplussed.
Well, he’d be nonplussed anyway. I think this is more for me than him.
I was thinking about setting up a regular rota of what kind of exercise we’d do on specific days, but soon gave that up because that’s just not the way I work with Max. “If this is Wednesday, it must be longlining!”
Depends on the weather, how I’m feeling, how I’m dressed, whether I can be arsed to change from my muck boots to my cold (stored in the car) riding boots, whether the tack room is locked, whether Max is stiff in his hinds, whether I feel his belly is too wet and muddy for a girth or roller, what kind of mood he’s in, what we did yesterday… like that.
I changed my mind three times this morning. I was definitely going to ride him again, then no, I would longline instead, actually, maybe some groundwork in hand.
In the end, we did loose work for about half an hour, and really enjoyed it.
I’m trying to get Max to carry his head a little higher when loose instead of mooching along, and he seems to be getting the hang of it now. I walk along beside him and lift one arm and snap the fingers, saying “Head up, Max!”
He was looking a bit startled and confused by this. He’d lift his head no trouble, but stop moving forward.
So then, with hand still up and fingers still lightly snapping, I’d coax him to “walk on”.
We had a few rather shambolic attempts at this, then I watched as Max’s eyes began to show me that he was getting it.
“Right. So you want head up and walk on. Oh, I see! Yes, I can do that. Pony nut? Looky! I did it again! Pony nut?”
Not perfect, but this was only our second session of trying, so I’m pretty happy with the progress. He’s a clever boy all right.
So on with directional instructions using pointing as well as voice.
This is really just to keep him interested with new stuff, and help me figure out our communication, too.
I’ve started adding motions with voice commands, and he’s starting to pay attention to them. Very good for “walk on”, less good for changing direction.
Eventually I’d like to get to the stage where I can stay in the centre of the school and direct him with voice & body, but that’s a long way off.
What we did manage today, though, was trot poles with me not having to trot over them with him! A first!
He was in his head collar, and we went over side by each a few times, then we walked over with me at a slight distance from the poles and Max going over by himself, with a lot of fuss and praise afterwards.
Finally, I set him up at stand facing the poles and asked for trot. Off he went, over the poles, having figured out that’s what I was getting all enthused about, and there ended the lesson, with a big jackpot for Max.
Let him have a bit of a mooch and a roll afterwards, while I tidied the school, and then back to his box for carrot stretches, lunch, and fresh water.
Really pleased with us today. Lots of co-operation and laughter. He’s also got the “Gimme a kiss” thing down pat, and is regularly offering me his nose so I can plant one on him. Funny boy!
Sunday 20 January 2008
Oh, that kind of rake!
Plans for this afternoon, which meant early rising to get to the yard and play with Max a bit before the rush.
Decided to take him into the school. Was just grooming him when YO’s husband came over to warn me that he’d left a blue rake outside the doors, so I should be aware when I walked Max up there.
“He’s not bothered by things like that,” I said.
“You’re very lucky, then.”
"Yes", I agreed, because I am. Max will startle at things occasionally, but generally he’s fairly steady and brave, and even after a spook will take a long hard look, and then walk closer to investigate.
We continued chatting while I was brushing Max, and eventually I figured out that the “blue rake” was in fact a proper rake that gets attached to a tractor and rakes up the school surface, rather than the garden implement I had in mind and dismissed as a non-issue.
Well, that put a different slant on things.
I decided to walk Max around to the school the long way, via the lane, so we could approach from a more open vantage point, rather than just turning a corner and seeing a mystery blue thing.
Well, he noticed all right, decided to put his Arab head on for a few moments (he gets quite tall when he’s Arab) and had a good hard stare at the new blue thing.
“Max, touch” I said hopefully.
“OK, then. I was about to anyway…” and he walked forward purposefully, stuck his head down and gave it a nudge.
Soon used head down position to move from investigating to sneaky grazing. My boy is an opportunist.
We had about half an hour in the school, most of it trot work.
I’ve lowered my stirrups one hole each side, and I’ve told myself this must be because my position is improving. I’d always been one to ride a bit short, but have been trying, since I’ve had Max, to ride a little longer and refine my position and balance.
Just lately, I’ve felt like my stirrups feel a bit too short, so I’m taking that as a good sign.
Max was a good mix of responsive and ornery, which is the mix I like. Went round really well, listened attentively and every now and then got into a head tossing “No, no, no! We’ve done what you say long enough!”
He’s still trying to have a little canter out of the bends down the long side of the school, and we’re getting a few good steps now, before he thinks better of it.
I was really happy with both sitting and rising trot today; we seemed to be moving together for longer stretches before I lost it. Whether that has anything to do with the new stirrup length I don’t know.
Decided to take him into the school. Was just grooming him when YO’s husband came over to warn me that he’d left a blue rake outside the doors, so I should be aware when I walked Max up there.
“He’s not bothered by things like that,” I said.
“You’re very lucky, then.”
"Yes", I agreed, because I am. Max will startle at things occasionally, but generally he’s fairly steady and brave, and even after a spook will take a long hard look, and then walk closer to investigate.
We continued chatting while I was brushing Max, and eventually I figured out that the “blue rake” was in fact a proper rake that gets attached to a tractor and rakes up the school surface, rather than the garden implement I had in mind and dismissed as a non-issue.
Well, that put a different slant on things.
I decided to walk Max around to the school the long way, via the lane, so we could approach from a more open vantage point, rather than just turning a corner and seeing a mystery blue thing.
Well, he noticed all right, decided to put his Arab head on for a few moments (he gets quite tall when he’s Arab) and had a good hard stare at the new blue thing.
“Max, touch” I said hopefully.
“OK, then. I was about to anyway…” and he walked forward purposefully, stuck his head down and gave it a nudge.
Soon used head down position to move from investigating to sneaky grazing. My boy is an opportunist.
We had about half an hour in the school, most of it trot work.
I’ve lowered my stirrups one hole each side, and I’ve told myself this must be because my position is improving. I’d always been one to ride a bit short, but have been trying, since I’ve had Max, to ride a little longer and refine my position and balance.
Just lately, I’ve felt like my stirrups feel a bit too short, so I’m taking that as a good sign.
Max was a good mix of responsive and ornery, which is the mix I like. Went round really well, listened attentively and every now and then got into a head tossing “No, no, no! We’ve done what you say long enough!”
He’s still trying to have a little canter out of the bends down the long side of the school, and we’re getting a few good steps now, before he thinks better of it.
I was really happy with both sitting and rising trot today; we seemed to be moving together for longer stretches before I lost it. Whether that has anything to do with the new stirrup length I don’t know.
Wednesday 16 January 2008
Reading you loud and clear!
Pretty amazing how things become more interesting and then more obvious.
Riding bareback today, I found that by raising my knees into what I’d call a “jockey position”, and no other aid, Max would come to a halt and stand waiting. I was trying to figure out why that was, because I’d been trying to achieve this in the saddle with a exhalation of breath, relaxation of stomach and putting more weight into the seat bones (if that makes sense).
Kept trying it, and Max’s reaction was always instant and identical. So I thought and thought, until I worked out that by raising my knees, I must be achieving the relaxed stomach and shifting my weight back slightly, and more firmly with the seat bones.
Well, I don’t want to raise my knees when in the saddle, so I’m going to have to work on this, obviously, but bareback is certainly a useful tool to add to our training. My training.
Riding bareback today, I found that by raising my knees into what I’d call a “jockey position”, and no other aid, Max would come to a halt and stand waiting. I was trying to figure out why that was, because I’d been trying to achieve this in the saddle with a exhalation of breath, relaxation of stomach and putting more weight into the seat bones (if that makes sense).
Kept trying it, and Max’s reaction was always instant and identical. So I thought and thought, until I worked out that by raising my knees, I must be achieving the relaxed stomach and shifting my weight back slightly, and more firmly with the seat bones.
Well, I don’t want to raise my knees when in the saddle, so I’m going to have to work on this, obviously, but bareback is certainly a useful tool to add to our training. My training.
Tuesday 15 January 2008
Waterlogged
What’s that Flanders and Swann song? “It’s bloody January again…” (Song of Weather)
I'm starting a little earlier in the morning now, trying to get myself accustomed to getting through things quickly so I can leave the yard by 9.00 am to go on to my other job for 10.00, but when it's like this, there's really not much you can do to hurry things up.
The boxes are filthy. Partly water coming in and making the bedding wet, and partly, I think, the horses thrashing about at night in the wind. It must be a little upsetting for them... well, not necessarily in a fearful way, but doesn't make for a quiet night of snoozing in the straw, does it?
Also, so dark you can't see what you're doing, which doesn't help. Coming in earlier, too, means that the horses aren't all ready to go out. So rather than just taking Glamour Girl Audrey out of her box and tying her up ready to go to the field, I have to take off her two stable rugs, put on her outdoor rug, pick her feet, take her to a sheltered area, then I can take out her water buckets and refill, then I can get the wheelbarrow and tools, then I can get her tea time hay ready, then I can start mucking out. It all takes time, and every quarter of an hour will count for me.
Not just that, but I can't and won't rush the lovelies, especially when the wind is whipping and they're a bit het up. They all want a cuddle and a chance to say hello, and I'll be darned if I'm going to deny them (or myself) that. I think it's important to stay calm for them, too, when the weather is wild, so trying to do things quickly just means it all takes longer in the end.
H and I were talking about Own Horse Syndrome last night. The fact that your horse will balk at something for you, but will blithely go ahead for someone else. An act of spitefulness? Not really. We have our own experience and our own expectations of our horses, and sometimes we create our own self-fulfilling prophesies.
It’s kind of an offshoot of “own kid syndrome”. As a child, I was always on best behaviour at other people's houses, and got ribbed by my friends because of it. "My parents always say, 'Isn't your friend polite? Such a pleasant girl, and so quiet!"
Hey, it's partly down to being brought up properly, isn't it? Parents always saying, "Be polite, be respectful, offer to help if you're asked to stay for tea."
Maybe we could push things a bit and say our own horses follow the same guidelines? Yeah, that's pushing it, but it does no harm to think we've brought them along so well they know it's best to be kind to strangers, as long as they're not threatening them.
Ha!
I was watching the BBC adaptation of Sense & Sensibility (not a patch on the Ang Lee/Emma Thompson cinema version, but OK).
Anyway, it was Sunday night, after my eventful weekend with Max, and I was watching a scene with man on horse, galloping across a field (for dramatic effect) and thought... "I could never do that with Max. Look how unconcerned that horse is, no worry about spooking, no lack of confidence in rider... Sigh."
But maybe one day that will be Max and me. Maybe we will be able to gallop across a field on our own with the wind in our hair and no worries in our heads. Not yet, and I know it's not possible yet. I know I've got lots of work to put in before we can even think of that. And so what? Do I not enjoy what I'm doing with him? We're having fun together, and coming up with new ways to amuse ourselves, and that's just as fulfilling as a gallop across a field.
Plus, the horse I watched was trained and ridden, probably, by a stunt rider who was also well trained. And they weren't alone. There were people all over the place, and probably a flippin' emergency vehicle on standby, and the insurance adjusters, and the horse wranglers shouting instructions, and it was probably the 15th take, and the horse was a bit puffed, and getting to understand that he just had to run across this patch of grass and then somebody would give him a polo.
No good comparing ourselves to something like that, is it?
Maybe that will never be my life with Max. Does that bother me? Honestly, no. It's a horse mad teenage girl's dream to gallop across serene pastures with abandon, not mine.
I still have the horse mad teenage girl in me to answer to, now and again, but for who I am now, my big thrills are also found sitting quietly in the straw watching my horse snooze, or standing at his food bowl watching him greedily eat the chopped pear and pony nuts I've dumped in, pausing now and again to give me a look which I can only interpret as, "This is great! You are tops!"
Or yes, even dismounting when he's scared and seeing him visibly relax a notch because I'm beside him and have said, "It's OK. Scary thing has to come through me to get to you, and you know I won't let it. Walk on. Be brave!"
Or those amazing moments when Max gazes out to the horizon, all alert, and then turns to nudge me, whether I'm on foot beside him, or in the saddle. "Look! Do you see it?"
Love that stuff. Love the relationship we've built and are still building.
So after all that, I've given Max the day off today. I'm hoping he will catch up on his snoozing. I spent a bit of time with him this morning, fed him his toast and marmite treat, and left to do the grocery shopping. Came back to the yard on my way back home, and found him lying down.
Despite my protestations, he roused himself and stood up for a bit of nuzzling. Checked his leg - cut is healing nicely. A little bit of swelling in the immediate area, but he's not troubled, and there's no sign of infection. Gave it a really good squeeze, and nothing nasty came out.
I've turned his muzzle rub into a "Gimme a kiss" command. I say it, he lifts his nose for the rub, and lets me plant a smacker on him, then he gets a pony nut.
Didn't do his undercarriage today. Could have, but decided to give him the day off from that, too. I don't think I have to worry too much about midges today, and he'll get a good scrub tomorrow. The little sores on the underside of his boy bits are coming along nicely now, and he doesn't seem quite so tender there as he was last week.
The Ent was still talking this morning about Max needing to learn who is boss in situations like the one we had on Saturday with the shooting. Tried to explain to him that in those situations, with the most well trained horse in the world, you still might come a cropper if instinct takes over.
We can work on it, for sure, but situations like that are exactly why riding is considered a high risk activity. I don't know that one can ever take the instinctive reaction out of a horse, and why would you want to? As much as Max listening to me might save us one day, equally, his instinct might save us one day.
I wouldn't want anybody to try and train the instinct out of me! You just have to learn to work with it. I do think, if he'd got that freaked out and I was on my own, I would have tried to turn him and take him away from the noise, and then found a long, meandering way home that could get us past the commotion. If it took us an hour or two, I would have done it. I would have found a way to make Max comfortable enough for us to carry on and find our way home.
We think of them as working animals, we once saw them attached to ploughs labouring in the fields, but then are surprised that they can haul us around like there is nothing holding on to the reins? Course they can! Silly to think otherwise!
My only worry is that getting to know Max better might be scaring the Ent a bit. He insists he isn't scared of him, but he thinks Max does need more discipline.
That's reverse "Own Horse Syndrome". With nothing scary going on, Max will drag Ent through a hedge. When I catch up and take hold of the reins, Max gets the "Uh oh!" look. "That was a lark, but better shape up now because she's got that look on her face."
"Say you're sorry, Max!"
"Hee hee! Go on, mum! Did you see his face? I dragged him right through a hedge AND I took his boot off!
"We'll talk about this later. Say you're sorry."
"Was funny though, yes?" whispered.
"Yes, was funny, but behave now! You're showing me up!"
"OK. Sorry, Mr Man. I won't drag you through the hedge no mo', until next time."
I do wonder, sometimes, if it's a bit of fun and mischief for Max, taking the Ent on a merry dance.
I'm starting a little earlier in the morning now, trying to get myself accustomed to getting through things quickly so I can leave the yard by 9.00 am to go on to my other job for 10.00, but when it's like this, there's really not much you can do to hurry things up.
The boxes are filthy. Partly water coming in and making the bedding wet, and partly, I think, the horses thrashing about at night in the wind. It must be a little upsetting for them... well, not necessarily in a fearful way, but doesn't make for a quiet night of snoozing in the straw, does it?
Also, so dark you can't see what you're doing, which doesn't help. Coming in earlier, too, means that the horses aren't all ready to go out. So rather than just taking Glamour Girl Audrey out of her box and tying her up ready to go to the field, I have to take off her two stable rugs, put on her outdoor rug, pick her feet, take her to a sheltered area, then I can take out her water buckets and refill, then I can get the wheelbarrow and tools, then I can get her tea time hay ready, then I can start mucking out. It all takes time, and every quarter of an hour will count for me.
Not just that, but I can't and won't rush the lovelies, especially when the wind is whipping and they're a bit het up. They all want a cuddle and a chance to say hello, and I'll be darned if I'm going to deny them (or myself) that. I think it's important to stay calm for them, too, when the weather is wild, so trying to do things quickly just means it all takes longer in the end.
H and I were talking about Own Horse Syndrome last night. The fact that your horse will balk at something for you, but will blithely go ahead for someone else. An act of spitefulness? Not really. We have our own experience and our own expectations of our horses, and sometimes we create our own self-fulfilling prophesies.
It’s kind of an offshoot of “own kid syndrome”. As a child, I was always on best behaviour at other people's houses, and got ribbed by my friends because of it. "My parents always say, 'Isn't your friend polite? Such a pleasant girl, and so quiet!"
Hey, it's partly down to being brought up properly, isn't it? Parents always saying, "Be polite, be respectful, offer to help if you're asked to stay for tea."
Maybe we could push things a bit and say our own horses follow the same guidelines? Yeah, that's pushing it, but it does no harm to think we've brought them along so well they know it's best to be kind to strangers, as long as they're not threatening them.
Ha!
I was watching the BBC adaptation of Sense & Sensibility (not a patch on the Ang Lee/Emma Thompson cinema version, but OK).
Anyway, it was Sunday night, after my eventful weekend with Max, and I was watching a scene with man on horse, galloping across a field (for dramatic effect) and thought... "I could never do that with Max. Look how unconcerned that horse is, no worry about spooking, no lack of confidence in rider... Sigh."
But maybe one day that will be Max and me. Maybe we will be able to gallop across a field on our own with the wind in our hair and no worries in our heads. Not yet, and I know it's not possible yet. I know I've got lots of work to put in before we can even think of that. And so what? Do I not enjoy what I'm doing with him? We're having fun together, and coming up with new ways to amuse ourselves, and that's just as fulfilling as a gallop across a field.
Plus, the horse I watched was trained and ridden, probably, by a stunt rider who was also well trained. And they weren't alone. There were people all over the place, and probably a flippin' emergency vehicle on standby, and the insurance adjusters, and the horse wranglers shouting instructions, and it was probably the 15th take, and the horse was a bit puffed, and getting to understand that he just had to run across this patch of grass and then somebody would give him a polo.
No good comparing ourselves to something like that, is it?
Maybe that will never be my life with Max. Does that bother me? Honestly, no. It's a horse mad teenage girl's dream to gallop across serene pastures with abandon, not mine.
I still have the horse mad teenage girl in me to answer to, now and again, but for who I am now, my big thrills are also found sitting quietly in the straw watching my horse snooze, or standing at his food bowl watching him greedily eat the chopped pear and pony nuts I've dumped in, pausing now and again to give me a look which I can only interpret as, "This is great! You are tops!"
Or yes, even dismounting when he's scared and seeing him visibly relax a notch because I'm beside him and have said, "It's OK. Scary thing has to come through me to get to you, and you know I won't let it. Walk on. Be brave!"
Or those amazing moments when Max gazes out to the horizon, all alert, and then turns to nudge me, whether I'm on foot beside him, or in the saddle. "Look! Do you see it?"
Love that stuff. Love the relationship we've built and are still building.
So after all that, I've given Max the day off today. I'm hoping he will catch up on his snoozing. I spent a bit of time with him this morning, fed him his toast and marmite treat, and left to do the grocery shopping. Came back to the yard on my way back home, and found him lying down.
Despite my protestations, he roused himself and stood up for a bit of nuzzling. Checked his leg - cut is healing nicely. A little bit of swelling in the immediate area, but he's not troubled, and there's no sign of infection. Gave it a really good squeeze, and nothing nasty came out.
I've turned his muzzle rub into a "Gimme a kiss" command. I say it, he lifts his nose for the rub, and lets me plant a smacker on him, then he gets a pony nut.
Didn't do his undercarriage today. Could have, but decided to give him the day off from that, too. I don't think I have to worry too much about midges today, and he'll get a good scrub tomorrow. The little sores on the underside of his boy bits are coming along nicely now, and he doesn't seem quite so tender there as he was last week.
The Ent was still talking this morning about Max needing to learn who is boss in situations like the one we had on Saturday with the shooting. Tried to explain to him that in those situations, with the most well trained horse in the world, you still might come a cropper if instinct takes over.
We can work on it, for sure, but situations like that are exactly why riding is considered a high risk activity. I don't know that one can ever take the instinctive reaction out of a horse, and why would you want to? As much as Max listening to me might save us one day, equally, his instinct might save us one day.
I wouldn't want anybody to try and train the instinct out of me! You just have to learn to work with it. I do think, if he'd got that freaked out and I was on my own, I would have tried to turn him and take him away from the noise, and then found a long, meandering way home that could get us past the commotion. If it took us an hour or two, I would have done it. I would have found a way to make Max comfortable enough for us to carry on and find our way home.
We think of them as working animals, we once saw them attached to ploughs labouring in the fields, but then are surprised that they can haul us around like there is nothing holding on to the reins? Course they can! Silly to think otherwise!
My only worry is that getting to know Max better might be scaring the Ent a bit. He insists he isn't scared of him, but he thinks Max does need more discipline.
That's reverse "Own Horse Syndrome". With nothing scary going on, Max will drag Ent through a hedge. When I catch up and take hold of the reins, Max gets the "Uh oh!" look. "That was a lark, but better shape up now because she's got that look on her face."
"Say you're sorry, Max!"
"Hee hee! Go on, mum! Did you see his face? I dragged him right through a hedge AND I took his boot off!
"We'll talk about this later. Say you're sorry."
"Was funny though, yes?" whispered.
"Yes, was funny, but behave now! You're showing me up!"
"OK. Sorry, Mr Man. I won't drag you through the hedge no mo', until next time."
I do wonder, sometimes, if it's a bit of fun and mischief for Max, taking the Ent on a merry dance.
Monday 14 January 2008
Sleepy head
The bad weather at night must be getting to Max, because he could hardly keep his eyes open this morning.
It took ages for him to get up after I’d finished the yard work, though I didn’t insist or rush him. I stayed in his box with him, though, and watched him rubber necking, like those tired old commuters on trains, eyelids drooping, head nodding, nodding, nodding and OOPS back up, eyes struggling to open, then head nodding, nodding, nodding…
I stroked his forehead and sung him Kookaburra very softly, and he dipped his nose to the straw and made little snores. Aww!
I was considering whether to give him the day off after our hairy weekend, but once he rose to his feet, I decided to do a bit of loose work in the indoor school, just to stretch his legs and have a bit of a laugh together.
We were working on “head up!” with a lift of my hands to get him to stand a bit taller (he was doing a very slouchy walk) with click/treats on response, even just a little lift did it. He seemed to be catching on pretty quickly to that, so something to work on.
I also tried to get him to follow my own body language, but really stretching tall myself, and lifting my legs higher, and although surprised by it at first, that seemed to work, too, and he started strutting beside me. Might have been my imagination though, so I’ll have to try again.
Basically, I’m thinking that he was reflecting back at me what I was giving him. When I moved with more energy and held my body “proud”, he seemed to do the same!
YO came in with Turbo on a pessoa, so I put Max’s head collar on and worked a bit more on whispered transitions, but our groove was gone, Max was distracted and so was I, so we cut it short and headed back to his box.
Met K on the way. We stood and chatted for ages, with Max yawning and blinking in the sun, and occasionally giving me a nudge, but basically being a well behaved and co-operative pony, who seemed happy to chill with us.
Relentless heavy rain called for tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it, but hope to long line Max whatever the weather.
His leg is looking a little swollen, but no sign of infection.
It took ages for him to get up after I’d finished the yard work, though I didn’t insist or rush him. I stayed in his box with him, though, and watched him rubber necking, like those tired old commuters on trains, eyelids drooping, head nodding, nodding, nodding and OOPS back up, eyes struggling to open, then head nodding, nodding, nodding…
I stroked his forehead and sung him Kookaburra very softly, and he dipped his nose to the straw and made little snores. Aww!
I was considering whether to give him the day off after our hairy weekend, but once he rose to his feet, I decided to do a bit of loose work in the indoor school, just to stretch his legs and have a bit of a laugh together.
We were working on “head up!” with a lift of my hands to get him to stand a bit taller (he was doing a very slouchy walk) with click/treats on response, even just a little lift did it. He seemed to be catching on pretty quickly to that, so something to work on.
I also tried to get him to follow my own body language, but really stretching tall myself, and lifting my legs higher, and although surprised by it at first, that seemed to work, too, and he started strutting beside me. Might have been my imagination though, so I’ll have to try again.
Basically, I’m thinking that he was reflecting back at me what I was giving him. When I moved with more energy and held my body “proud”, he seemed to do the same!
YO came in with Turbo on a pessoa, so I put Max’s head collar on and worked a bit more on whispered transitions, but our groove was gone, Max was distracted and so was I, so we cut it short and headed back to his box.
Met K on the way. We stood and chatted for ages, with Max yawning and blinking in the sun, and occasionally giving me a nudge, but basically being a well behaved and co-operative pony, who seemed happy to chill with us.
Relentless heavy rain called for tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it, but hope to long line Max whatever the weather.
His leg is looking a little swollen, but no sign of infection.
Sunday 13 January 2008
Will this wind be so mighty...?
Well, it’s a pretty mighty wind a-blowin’, as it happens, but perhaps not so mighty as to lay low the mountains of the earth.
Enough to ruffle up the mane of a young horse though, and make him forget he’s 50% Fjord and decide he’s ALL Arab.
Had planned a hack with Turbo today, but was having misgivings as I eyed the weather forecast. Downgraded from heavy to light rain, but those 30 mph winds gave me pause for thought.
The ground is still sodden, for my shoeless joe with the collapsible hinds, and now, he’s got a cut and a bit of swelling on his near foreleg. We suspect it’s a kick, but not a nasty one; probably just caught with a toe and cushioned by his rug. No lameness, just a little heat and a bit of swelling. Purple spray to the rescue, and I’ll keep an eye on it.
I didn’t want to hold Turbo back while I did want to be cautious about Max, so we decided we’d set out together for a bit, then go our separate ways. A good exercise for Max anyway to go home on his own, leaving his security blanket on another bridleway.
Fairly uneventful, as it turned out. Lots of head tossing and snorting, a bit of looking for things to be scared of, a few trots, a teeny canter, and then the parting of the ways. I kept Max going straight, and Turbo turned off to the left. It took a little for Max to realise he was on his own, but he carried on bravely.
I could feel the tension in him, which always makes me a bit edgy. Me being edgy wasn’t good, so I took a deep breath, and then began to sing our calm song, “Kookaburra.”
When in doubt, sing!
I think Kookaburra partly works for Max because it’s our sleepy time song, when he’s lying down in his stable and I’m crooning away to him. I think partly it’s straightforward physical. If I’m singing, I’m not holding my breath, I’m not giving off tension vibes, and Max takes his cue from that.
We made it home in one piece, though I admit I did get off and walk him for a spell. We were approaching the farm where all the shooting hullabaloo happened yesterday, and Max stopped dead and gave me all his signals that he was unprepared to go forward, and not just acting like a big jessie, but genuinely feeling unsure.
Yes, I could have tried to force him on, but why? Why make a difficult situation more difficult, especially at the point where we were leaving a field and coming on to a lane and the wind was howling?
Rather than fight, I just slid off, kept singing, and led. Max followed happily, still tense, but reassured. As soon as we were past the scary bit and he gave a snort and relaxed his neck, I hopped back on, and we had a lovely, fairly controlled trot the rest of the way home.
I know dismounting is a bit controversial “Be positive! Ride through it! You’re only teaching him he can get away with it!”
I hear all those voices, and I dismount anyway. I don’t think I’m teaching Max anything. Horses are too much “in the moment” to calculate like that. “Ah, this is the place where I can hypnotise her into getting off!” I don’t believe horses are duplicitous or scheming.
If I’m teaching him anything at all, it’s that I’m paying attention to how he feels, and giving him comfort when he needs it. He’s still young and quite inexperienced. Maybe one day, when we’ve been together longer, and he trusts me as much in the saddle as he does on the ground, I won’t have to get off him. It’s immaterial to me. I’m perfectly happy walking beside him, and we don’t need to prove anything to anybody, except each other.
So yeah. I’m a big girl’s blouse, too. My horse’s security and our collective safety is more important to me than whether I win some imaginary battle by staying on board and forcing my will upon him when he’s spooked, and has every right to be spooked. Might be a slightly different story when he’s just playing silly buggers, and yes, I can tell the difference.
I suppose it will enhance my reputation as an overly cautious hacking partner, or perhaps even that I’m frightened of my horse.
I’m not frightened of Max, but I am sometimes frightened for him. He’s not a baby anymore, rising six, but he still is inexperienced and not the most sure-footed beast that ever trod the earth.
Enough to ruffle up the mane of a young horse though, and make him forget he’s 50% Fjord and decide he’s ALL Arab.
Had planned a hack with Turbo today, but was having misgivings as I eyed the weather forecast. Downgraded from heavy to light rain, but those 30 mph winds gave me pause for thought.
The ground is still sodden, for my shoeless joe with the collapsible hinds, and now, he’s got a cut and a bit of swelling on his near foreleg. We suspect it’s a kick, but not a nasty one; probably just caught with a toe and cushioned by his rug. No lameness, just a little heat and a bit of swelling. Purple spray to the rescue, and I’ll keep an eye on it.
I didn’t want to hold Turbo back while I did want to be cautious about Max, so we decided we’d set out together for a bit, then go our separate ways. A good exercise for Max anyway to go home on his own, leaving his security blanket on another bridleway.
Fairly uneventful, as it turned out. Lots of head tossing and snorting, a bit of looking for things to be scared of, a few trots, a teeny canter, and then the parting of the ways. I kept Max going straight, and Turbo turned off to the left. It took a little for Max to realise he was on his own, but he carried on bravely.
I could feel the tension in him, which always makes me a bit edgy. Me being edgy wasn’t good, so I took a deep breath, and then began to sing our calm song, “Kookaburra.”
When in doubt, sing!
I think Kookaburra partly works for Max because it’s our sleepy time song, when he’s lying down in his stable and I’m crooning away to him. I think partly it’s straightforward physical. If I’m singing, I’m not holding my breath, I’m not giving off tension vibes, and Max takes his cue from that.
We made it home in one piece, though I admit I did get off and walk him for a spell. We were approaching the farm where all the shooting hullabaloo happened yesterday, and Max stopped dead and gave me all his signals that he was unprepared to go forward, and not just acting like a big jessie, but genuinely feeling unsure.
Yes, I could have tried to force him on, but why? Why make a difficult situation more difficult, especially at the point where we were leaving a field and coming on to a lane and the wind was howling?
Rather than fight, I just slid off, kept singing, and led. Max followed happily, still tense, but reassured. As soon as we were past the scary bit and he gave a snort and relaxed his neck, I hopped back on, and we had a lovely, fairly controlled trot the rest of the way home.
I know dismounting is a bit controversial “Be positive! Ride through it! You’re only teaching him he can get away with it!”
I hear all those voices, and I dismount anyway. I don’t think I’m teaching Max anything. Horses are too much “in the moment” to calculate like that. “Ah, this is the place where I can hypnotise her into getting off!” I don’t believe horses are duplicitous or scheming.
If I’m teaching him anything at all, it’s that I’m paying attention to how he feels, and giving him comfort when he needs it. He’s still young and quite inexperienced. Maybe one day, when we’ve been together longer, and he trusts me as much in the saddle as he does on the ground, I won’t have to get off him. It’s immaterial to me. I’m perfectly happy walking beside him, and we don’t need to prove anything to anybody, except each other.
So yeah. I’m a big girl’s blouse, too. My horse’s security and our collective safety is more important to me than whether I win some imaginary battle by staying on board and forcing my will upon him when he’s spooked, and has every right to be spooked. Might be a slightly different story when he’s just playing silly buggers, and yes, I can tell the difference.
I suppose it will enhance my reputation as an overly cautious hacking partner, or perhaps even that I’m frightened of my horse.
I’m not frightened of Max, but I am sometimes frightened for him. He’s not a baby anymore, rising six, but he still is inexperienced and not the most sure-footed beast that ever trod the earth.
Saturday 12 January 2008
I'm outta here!
Double shift at the yard today, with local shooting to boot, so had to warn hackers before they went out.
Nothing untoward, other than picking up a dead rat with my hands because I thought it was harmless horse poo. Sad to say, but I screamed like a girl. Not even a proper, robust scream, but a weedy little “Augh!” as I flung ratty back down.
I was brave enough to pick it back up again, though, and Ratty eventually made it to the muck heap.
Between the morning and afternoon shifts, the Ent and I took Max for a walk in his new, high viz bridle attachments. I don’t think he noticed.
As for the shooting, well, Max has never had a problem with it before, so why should today be any different, especially with his two favourite people walking with him?Of course he’d be brave. In fact, I expected no reaction from him at all.
D’oh!
We were fine on the way out, and as we passed the farm, we saw people gathering, and in conversation were told that the pheasant hunt was done, and now they were going to do clay pigeon shooting, right there by the road.
We walked on, and the shooting started. Max flinched, but nothing more, as we told him it was fine, and walked on.
Then he spied some Other Horses. Audrey galloping across a far field, and Turbo, at a distance, coming towards us at a smart trot. Max watched, fascinated.
We eventually met up with Turbo and carried on together for a bit, back towards the yard. The shooting was more frequent, but neither horse was bothered by it.
Not until Turbo bid us goodbye and carried on back to the yard, leaving Max with the humans, and the shooting.
Now what’s a young horse to do? The shooting is louder, closer and suddenly seems a bit scary, despite the reassurances of the humans. The Other Horse appears to be high-tailing it for home.
Stick with the spindly stick people, or run after the Smart Other Horse?
Today is the day that the Ent learned just how strong cuddly ponies can be. We were both trying to hold him back as Max decided the Other Horse had obviously made the right decision.
I had time to say, “We’re in trouble” and the Ent tutted. “No we’re not.”
“I can’t hold on” I said, as Max pushed me up a verge and clunked me with his head.
“Then let go, I’ll hold him.”
I then watched my pony drag my husband up the lane, husband (a runner, luckily) struggling to keep up, repeating, in higher and higher octaves, “Max, walk! Max! Steady! Walk Max. STAND! WHOA!”
A little canter and then Ent, very wisely, called out to Turbo, who kindly stopped, turned, and waited for Max to catch up. I ran along behind and caught them up, too.
We made our way home together, Max still unable to keep himself at a walk.
Once back at the yard, he was fine, and I explained to the Ent that it wasn’t naughtiness, it was adrenaline and instinct, pure and simple.
“But the shooting wasn’t even close!” the Ent exclaimed.
“It was very close.” I corrected.
“It must have been 200 yards from where we were! That’s not close.”
“It is to a horse.”
“Well, he’d be no good in the cavalry!”
Nothing like a bit of clay pigeon shooting to bring a proud Arab trot out of my boy, head proud, tail like a flag, legs collected beautifully, eyes out on stalks, mouth agape in silent scream of abject terror…
I don’t know what would have happened if Max and I had been on our own. I don’t think I could have held him, and that scares me.
Then again, I wouldn’t have taken him out in the first place. And who’s to say what would have happened if we hadn’t bumped into Turbo? If Max hadn’t seen The Other Horse running for home (as he perceived it), he might have been happier to stick with his human herd for safety.
Who knows? A reminder, should we really need it, that anything can happen. It pays to remember how strong the horses are, how feeble we are in comparison. Hard hat, high viz, mobile phone, fold up hoof pick, baling twine, a handful of pony nuts (or whatever) and some common sense. Don’t leave the yard without ‘em.
At least the sun was shining, though, and we all got home in one piece.
Nothing untoward, other than picking up a dead rat with my hands because I thought it was harmless horse poo. Sad to say, but I screamed like a girl. Not even a proper, robust scream, but a weedy little “Augh!” as I flung ratty back down.
I was brave enough to pick it back up again, though, and Ratty eventually made it to the muck heap.
Between the morning and afternoon shifts, the Ent and I took Max for a walk in his new, high viz bridle attachments. I don’t think he noticed.
As for the shooting, well, Max has never had a problem with it before, so why should today be any different, especially with his two favourite people walking with him?Of course he’d be brave. In fact, I expected no reaction from him at all.
D’oh!
We were fine on the way out, and as we passed the farm, we saw people gathering, and in conversation were told that the pheasant hunt was done, and now they were going to do clay pigeon shooting, right there by the road.
We walked on, and the shooting started. Max flinched, but nothing more, as we told him it was fine, and walked on.
Then he spied some Other Horses. Audrey galloping across a far field, and Turbo, at a distance, coming towards us at a smart trot. Max watched, fascinated.
We eventually met up with Turbo and carried on together for a bit, back towards the yard. The shooting was more frequent, but neither horse was bothered by it.
Not until Turbo bid us goodbye and carried on back to the yard, leaving Max with the humans, and the shooting.
Now what’s a young horse to do? The shooting is louder, closer and suddenly seems a bit scary, despite the reassurances of the humans. The Other Horse appears to be high-tailing it for home.
Stick with the spindly stick people, or run after the Smart Other Horse?
Today is the day that the Ent learned just how strong cuddly ponies can be. We were both trying to hold him back as Max decided the Other Horse had obviously made the right decision.
I had time to say, “We’re in trouble” and the Ent tutted. “No we’re not.”
“I can’t hold on” I said, as Max pushed me up a verge and clunked me with his head.
“Then let go, I’ll hold him.”
I then watched my pony drag my husband up the lane, husband (a runner, luckily) struggling to keep up, repeating, in higher and higher octaves, “Max, walk! Max! Steady! Walk Max. STAND! WHOA!”
A little canter and then Ent, very wisely, called out to Turbo, who kindly stopped, turned, and waited for Max to catch up. I ran along behind and caught them up, too.
We made our way home together, Max still unable to keep himself at a walk.
Once back at the yard, he was fine, and I explained to the Ent that it wasn’t naughtiness, it was adrenaline and instinct, pure and simple.
“But the shooting wasn’t even close!” the Ent exclaimed.
“It was very close.” I corrected.
“It must have been 200 yards from where we were! That’s not close.”
“It is to a horse.”
“Well, he’d be no good in the cavalry!”
Nothing like a bit of clay pigeon shooting to bring a proud Arab trot out of my boy, head proud, tail like a flag, legs collected beautifully, eyes out on stalks, mouth agape in silent scream of abject terror…
I don’t know what would have happened if Max and I had been on our own. I don’t think I could have held him, and that scares me.
Then again, I wouldn’t have taken him out in the first place. And who’s to say what would have happened if we hadn’t bumped into Turbo? If Max hadn’t seen The Other Horse running for home (as he perceived it), he might have been happier to stick with his human herd for safety.
Who knows? A reminder, should we really need it, that anything can happen. It pays to remember how strong the horses are, how feeble we are in comparison. Hard hat, high viz, mobile phone, fold up hoof pick, baling twine, a handful of pony nuts (or whatever) and some common sense. Don’t leave the yard without ‘em.
At least the sun was shining, though, and we all got home in one piece.
Friday 11 January 2008
Bareback buddies
Another miserable day here in Hampshire. Relentless rain, although at least not windy.
Why does everything seem more difficult when it’s soggy? The straw is more likely to fall apart and stick to your waterproofs, the water buckets won’t get clean and feel heavy, the wheelbarrows weigh a ton and don’t steer properly, and the lovelies peer eagerly through straggly, wet forelocks.
"Hello my friend! What you have for me today? Any treats? Sure? If I look in your pockets will I find something? OK, yes, I know you're trying to put my rug on, but honestly, come here! My face! Look at my face! Now tell me, have you any treats? Oooh, there's one! Lovely. Now, can I rub my forehead on your back? Come on, turn around! You're in a hurry? Oh... I see. Well, that’s OK, you just get on with it and I'll just stand still for you. Never mind. Oh! Is that your back you're offering? Thank you very much, cuz I'm quite itchy and it's a sign of affection, you know. Not in that much of a hurry after all, eh? Good. A bit of quality time is always nice, isn't it? We don’t need to rush, do we?"
Sigh. There's always time for loving the lovelies!
I got through things as quickly as I could, but it still took me half an hour longer than it should have (by my reckoning).
I decided to take Max into the school for a bareback ride, based on my lack of balance yesterday. Well, that, and I didn’t want to get his saddle soaked, or put a girth around his muddy and still wet belly.
Threw his fleece on to keep his back dry on the walk to the school, and then hopped on board for a light workout.
I enjoy bareback because I can feel everything moving so clearly, and Max reacts and responds so well to any movements or changes of pressure from me, so I can really work on the subtleties of balance and muscle control. Not that I’m that subtle with any of it yet!
We did some work with no reins, at walk, just trying to direct him with my body… limited success there, but we’ll keep trying.
I considered a while ago adding one bareback session a week to our schooling, and I think I will reinstate that, more for me than for Max.
The best news is that after we’d done a bit of trot work, I hopped off, took off his bridle and left him to it.
He has now taken me sitting down on the bench as a signal that he can have a roll if he wants. I watched with approval as he started to paw at the ground, and then those knees buckled and down he went.
Hurrah! Rolled right over, so his back must be feeling better.
Today’s new taste sensation was parsnips. I cut a few up this morning to see if they’d make a good substitute for carrots. Offered one up and yes, they’ll do nicely, thanks!
So today it was parsnip stretches, which were very successful and I’ve got my bendy boy back!
Why does everything seem more difficult when it’s soggy? The straw is more likely to fall apart and stick to your waterproofs, the water buckets won’t get clean and feel heavy, the wheelbarrows weigh a ton and don’t steer properly, and the lovelies peer eagerly through straggly, wet forelocks.
"Hello my friend! What you have for me today? Any treats? Sure? If I look in your pockets will I find something? OK, yes, I know you're trying to put my rug on, but honestly, come here! My face! Look at my face! Now tell me, have you any treats? Oooh, there's one! Lovely. Now, can I rub my forehead on your back? Come on, turn around! You're in a hurry? Oh... I see. Well, that’s OK, you just get on with it and I'll just stand still for you. Never mind. Oh! Is that your back you're offering? Thank you very much, cuz I'm quite itchy and it's a sign of affection, you know. Not in that much of a hurry after all, eh? Good. A bit of quality time is always nice, isn't it? We don’t need to rush, do we?"
Sigh. There's always time for loving the lovelies!
I got through things as quickly as I could, but it still took me half an hour longer than it should have (by my reckoning).
I decided to take Max into the school for a bareback ride, based on my lack of balance yesterday. Well, that, and I didn’t want to get his saddle soaked, or put a girth around his muddy and still wet belly.
Threw his fleece on to keep his back dry on the walk to the school, and then hopped on board for a light workout.
I enjoy bareback because I can feel everything moving so clearly, and Max reacts and responds so well to any movements or changes of pressure from me, so I can really work on the subtleties of balance and muscle control. Not that I’m that subtle with any of it yet!
We did some work with no reins, at walk, just trying to direct him with my body… limited success there, but we’ll keep trying.
I considered a while ago adding one bareback session a week to our schooling, and I think I will reinstate that, more for me than for Max.
The best news is that after we’d done a bit of trot work, I hopped off, took off his bridle and left him to it.
He has now taken me sitting down on the bench as a signal that he can have a roll if he wants. I watched with approval as he started to paw at the ground, and then those knees buckled and down he went.
Hurrah! Rolled right over, so his back must be feeling better.
Today’s new taste sensation was parsnips. I cut a few up this morning to see if they’d make a good substitute for carrots. Offered one up and yes, they’ll do nicely, thanks!
So today it was parsnip stretches, which were very successful and I’ve got my bendy boy back!
Thursday 10 January 2008
Tra la la!
Found out yesterday that I’ve secured a part-time job starting in February. I’ll be able to keep up the yard work, do the other (about three to four hours a day) and then back to the yard to work with Max in the afternoons, rather than in the mornings.
I’m very fortunate, I know, to be able to have the luxury of time to do that at all. Lots of people can’t.
Works for me, though! As the days get longer, we’ll be able to continue or lone hacks, and we can concentrate a bit more on long-lining and ground work in the school without there being a queue or sharing issues. I don’t mind sharing, per se, but I do like using the WHOLE school with Max, especially lining, and his concentration is a bit better if there’s only me to concentrate on. And confession time, I do like him to have a loose wander and a roll, if he wants to, when we’re done.
Whistling a happy tune today, because my boy is feeling much better and is stretching his neck for those carrots again, no trouble.
We did ridden work in the school this morning, quite early. The weather is foul, really windy and quite heavy rain. Dreary and unpleasant. January, basically.
He went pretty well, and had recovered enough cheek to present little skirmishes about direction and speed. Well, that’s allowed, when he’s been feeling so listless for a couple of days – good to see some spirit!
We did get down to business though, and he did some lovely trotting, round and round, changing direction when asked, coming back to me when asked.
I was the problem today. My balance was not good, and I know I must have been a burden rather than a partner at times. Will work on that. Not sure what the problem was, but it may just be down to back ache – am probably holding myself a little differently and favouring my right side.
No stifle lock during our ride at all! I usually feel at least one stumble/give way in walk or trot from the hinds, but none today.
Getting very attached to his pears, now. Extra juicy one today, and he ended up frothing a bit. Slimed me, frisking me for more.
"What? You brought one only? How can this be? You playing funny joke on me?"
When I left the yard today, I felt a bit sad. I don’t want to leave him, I want him in his own field, on my own land, so he can stick his head through the kitchen window whenever he wants. Well, I’d say he’d be welcome to come right into the kitchen, but the Ent might have something to say about that.
One day, I hope…
I’m very fortunate, I know, to be able to have the luxury of time to do that at all. Lots of people can’t.
Works for me, though! As the days get longer, we’ll be able to continue or lone hacks, and we can concentrate a bit more on long-lining and ground work in the school without there being a queue or sharing issues. I don’t mind sharing, per se, but I do like using the WHOLE school with Max, especially lining, and his concentration is a bit better if there’s only me to concentrate on. And confession time, I do like him to have a loose wander and a roll, if he wants to, when we’re done.
Whistling a happy tune today, because my boy is feeling much better and is stretching his neck for those carrots again, no trouble.
We did ridden work in the school this morning, quite early. The weather is foul, really windy and quite heavy rain. Dreary and unpleasant. January, basically.
He went pretty well, and had recovered enough cheek to present little skirmishes about direction and speed. Well, that’s allowed, when he’s been feeling so listless for a couple of days – good to see some spirit!
We did get down to business though, and he did some lovely trotting, round and round, changing direction when asked, coming back to me when asked.
I was the problem today. My balance was not good, and I know I must have been a burden rather than a partner at times. Will work on that. Not sure what the problem was, but it may just be down to back ache – am probably holding myself a little differently and favouring my right side.
No stifle lock during our ride at all! I usually feel at least one stumble/give way in walk or trot from the hinds, but none today.
Getting very attached to his pears, now. Extra juicy one today, and he ended up frothing a bit. Slimed me, frisking me for more.
"What? You brought one only? How can this be? You playing funny joke on me?"
When I left the yard today, I felt a bit sad. I don’t want to leave him, I want him in his own field, on my own land, so he can stick his head through the kitchen window whenever he wants. Well, I’d say he’d be welcome to come right into the kitchen, but the Ent might have something to say about that.
One day, I hope…
Wednesday 9 January 2008
Mr Needy
Max is OK, but he's still a bit listless and stiff in his neck, and his back, too, I think.
I took him into the school this afternoon for some long-lining. We weren’t ambitious, about half an hour or so, just walk and trot transitions and some quite nice turns. He was moving OK but there was no real spark or eagerness, and no mischief. I missed it!
I took everything off him to see if he’d roll, and he did, but for the first time ever, he couldn’t roll over. Which makes me question his back, but thinking about it, it’s probably still due to his neck feeling sore.
After that we did a tiny bit of loose work, just to get him into a little canter on both reins so I could see if he was moving OK. He was.
Mostly though, he was just a Clingon. He’s always been a fairly affectionate horse, but he really just seemed to want to stand with me and have his face stroked.
I took him back to the yard and tied him up outside his stable (which had been cleaned in our absence) and decided to try and entice him into carrot stretches with an entire carrot.
I got him to stretch back a very little bit on his left side, but he was very funny. He'd try, then he sighed and looked away, dejected. Then he put his head between his front legs for the “bow” stretch instead.
"I do this one, ‘kay? Where is carrot? No, not stretching back to there, stretching to here, ‘kay?"
How am I meant to resist that?
He was almost back to full stretch back on his right side, which was nice to see, though he lifted his right hind up and hovered it, like that somehow made it easier.
I do think it's the flu jab. He's OK in himself, although a little needy. We all get like that when we're feeling a bit off though, don't we?
What if it’s the marmite?! Could it be the marmite?
I took him into the school this afternoon for some long-lining. We weren’t ambitious, about half an hour or so, just walk and trot transitions and some quite nice turns. He was moving OK but there was no real spark or eagerness, and no mischief. I missed it!
I took everything off him to see if he’d roll, and he did, but for the first time ever, he couldn’t roll over. Which makes me question his back, but thinking about it, it’s probably still due to his neck feeling sore.
After that we did a tiny bit of loose work, just to get him into a little canter on both reins so I could see if he was moving OK. He was.
Mostly though, he was just a Clingon. He’s always been a fairly affectionate horse, but he really just seemed to want to stand with me and have his face stroked.
I took him back to the yard and tied him up outside his stable (which had been cleaned in our absence) and decided to try and entice him into carrot stretches with an entire carrot.
I got him to stretch back a very little bit on his left side, but he was very funny. He'd try, then he sighed and looked away, dejected. Then he put his head between his front legs for the “bow” stretch instead.
"I do this one, ‘kay? Where is carrot? No, not stretching back to there, stretching to here, ‘kay?"
How am I meant to resist that?
He was almost back to full stretch back on his right side, which was nice to see, though he lifted his right hind up and hovered it, like that somehow made it easier.
I do think it's the flu jab. He's OK in himself, although a little needy. We all get like that when we're feeling a bit off though, don't we?
What if it’s the marmite?! Could it be the marmite?
Tuesday 8 January 2008
Mystic Max
My pony is psychic! It’s true! Well, I’d like it to be true so I shall choose to believe it’s true…
Convinced?
Arrived at the yard and he was just coming in from the field. I watched him as I parked up, and felt the silly grin settle into place; the silly grin that I always wear when I’m watching my boy.
Went to his box and he was muzzle deep in pony nuts (he gets a couple of handfuls of Hi Fi Lite pony nuts as a “welcome” treat). Really, he doesn’t even need that, but it’s not fair on him to see ALL The Other Horses get hearty breakfasts while he gets nothing at all.
I took him his toast and marmite, and although interested, he was not eager. I thought something about him wasn’t quite right. He just didn’t seem himself. Nothing obviously wrong, just a bit subdued. I decided to try again with the toast later, when he wasn’t distracted by pony nuts and maybe wishing he had two mouths so he could eat both offerings at the same time.
Went back about half an hour later, and yes, he was perfectly happy to wolf down his marmite toast – he doesn’t care if the toast is cold.
Finished the yard and as it was hammering it down with rain and people were turning up to use the indoor school, I decided to just whip him in there fast for a bit of in-hand work, just brushing up on our transitions and such.
Figured we’d probably have to share the school, and I didn’t want to long line him in only half the school, so in hand seemed less of a fiddle and would give me a bit more control if he got distracted by The Other Horses.
We started off sharing with Turbo, and after a break, shared with Mini Me, the hack-er-ney. Both high stepping driving ponies, and Max watched them with interest and just a pinch of disbelief.
"Hey, high-stepper! Why so prancey? You got midges?"
Max went really well, listened, responded. Was a little eager to trot REALLY FAST (watching Mini Me) but I got him collected back, more so I could keep up with him than anything else.
He was moving fine, and I had no cause for concern.
When Mini Me left, I knew I had only minutes before we'd have company again, so decided to quickly take Max off the lead rope and canter him on both reins. Again, very eager, went off no trouble, did the downward transitions beautifully and we were done. Only about 25 minutes, but I still had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right with him, so that seemed about enough.
Back in his box, and we tried the carrot stretches. He seemed stiff bending to his right, and had lots of trouble getting his head very far in his “bow” stretch.
On the bends to the left, he couldn’t get back to his flank at all. He wouldn’t even try. He had the confused eyes that I recognise… I think the confused eyes might be frustration that we’re not communicating. Maybe I’m making too much of that, but there’s a definite look he gets when I’m the one who isn’t “getting it”.
For him not to be trying to get his carrot had me concerned. The boy is a martyr to his belly, and he would stampede over his own mum for carrots.
Big sigh, and big, watery eyes looking back at me. Like the cat from Shrek.
“Can you bring it closer, mum?”
“Are you stiff, Max? Are you sore?”
“Dunno. “
“Are you hurt?”
“Dunno… Can you bring the carrot closer?”
“Will you try again for me if I hold it closer for you? I’m trying to see what’s wrong.”
Eventually he got his carrots for pretty half arsed stretches. I leaned back against the wall and wondered, worry hat in place.
Max returned to his hay and I moved forward again to have a feel of his usual trouble spots. Then I decided to do a bit of reiki, because it was just so obvious to me that something was troubling him.
He had some quite cool spots around his stifles, and his heart and chest were really warm, his neck, hot.
So I was assessing… I kept feeling with my hands, and getting an idea of a general malaise from him, like yes, a bit stiff and sore, but a bit off colour too. Nothing serious, just “blah”.
I got to his forehead, and placed one hand in the centre, and one under his jaw. Another sigh, and he leaned into me, just taking what was on offer, and what I was offering him was love and reassurance. He had stopped eating, stopped chewing, though he had some hay in his mouth, and stood really still. I put my head against his, and he twitched his ears at me, as if he was listening.
“I’ll look after you Max, don’t worry. Now tell me what’s wrong.” I didn’t say it, I thought it.
And then he did.
He leaned a little harder, and then pulled back and turned so we had eye contact. I took my hands away from him because it felt like I should. I hunkered down on the straw bank and looked up at him, and he lowered his head down to mine and blew softly against my face and then I got a really clear picture in my head…
A message or a memory?
I saw myself the day before, holding Max, but it was from Max’s perspective: Not my view of Max as I held him, but Max’s view of me holding him. And then eureka! In walked the vet and gave him his flu/tet jab in the neck.
And there we have it. His neck is sore, I have no doubt, because of the jab. He’s feeling off and a bit stiff because that often happens after flu jabs for us, too.
Phew!
Of course, I’m not taking that as the definitive answer, and I’ll be looking at him closely tomorrow. He’s not off his food, he’s not moving badly, so I know he’s basically OK, just not himself. And that the jab caused it makes perfect sense and filled me with such relief.
I stood again and said out loud, “You’ll feel better tomorrow sweetpea. Thanks for explaining.”
Another sigh, and then he just tucked his big head into my chest for a bit and I gave him an ear scratch, then a polo.
Yes, of course I may have remembered about the jab all on my own, with or without the reiki and direct questioning. Because Max surely couldn’t be so in tune with me that he could tell me himself, right? Of course not! What horse could possibly do that? They’re just “dumb” animals after all, with a job to do and nothing more.
However it happened, whether it was my concentrating that retrieved a very recent but forgotten event, or whether Max helped is conjecture. There will be those who have no trouble believing it, those who are sceptical but would like to believe it, and those who snort and call it sentimental claptrap with no basis in reality.
I can ably argue all three points of view, but between Max and I, I think he and I know what happened this morning: I asked, he answered, I listened.
That’s all that matters.
Convinced?
Arrived at the yard and he was just coming in from the field. I watched him as I parked up, and felt the silly grin settle into place; the silly grin that I always wear when I’m watching my boy.
Went to his box and he was muzzle deep in pony nuts (he gets a couple of handfuls of Hi Fi Lite pony nuts as a “welcome” treat). Really, he doesn’t even need that, but it’s not fair on him to see ALL The Other Horses get hearty breakfasts while he gets nothing at all.
I took him his toast and marmite, and although interested, he was not eager. I thought something about him wasn’t quite right. He just didn’t seem himself. Nothing obviously wrong, just a bit subdued. I decided to try again with the toast later, when he wasn’t distracted by pony nuts and maybe wishing he had two mouths so he could eat both offerings at the same time.
Went back about half an hour later, and yes, he was perfectly happy to wolf down his marmite toast – he doesn’t care if the toast is cold.
Finished the yard and as it was hammering it down with rain and people were turning up to use the indoor school, I decided to just whip him in there fast for a bit of in-hand work, just brushing up on our transitions and such.
Figured we’d probably have to share the school, and I didn’t want to long line him in only half the school, so in hand seemed less of a fiddle and would give me a bit more control if he got distracted by The Other Horses.
We started off sharing with Turbo, and after a break, shared with Mini Me, the hack-er-ney. Both high stepping driving ponies, and Max watched them with interest and just a pinch of disbelief.
"Hey, high-stepper! Why so prancey? You got midges?"
Max went really well, listened, responded. Was a little eager to trot REALLY FAST (watching Mini Me) but I got him collected back, more so I could keep up with him than anything else.
He was moving fine, and I had no cause for concern.
When Mini Me left, I knew I had only minutes before we'd have company again, so decided to quickly take Max off the lead rope and canter him on both reins. Again, very eager, went off no trouble, did the downward transitions beautifully and we were done. Only about 25 minutes, but I still had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right with him, so that seemed about enough.
Back in his box, and we tried the carrot stretches. He seemed stiff bending to his right, and had lots of trouble getting his head very far in his “bow” stretch.
On the bends to the left, he couldn’t get back to his flank at all. He wouldn’t even try. He had the confused eyes that I recognise… I think the confused eyes might be frustration that we’re not communicating. Maybe I’m making too much of that, but there’s a definite look he gets when I’m the one who isn’t “getting it”.
For him not to be trying to get his carrot had me concerned. The boy is a martyr to his belly, and he would stampede over his own mum for carrots.
Big sigh, and big, watery eyes looking back at me. Like the cat from Shrek.
“Can you bring it closer, mum?”
“Are you stiff, Max? Are you sore?”
“Dunno. “
“Are you hurt?”
“Dunno… Can you bring the carrot closer?”
“Will you try again for me if I hold it closer for you? I’m trying to see what’s wrong.”
Eventually he got his carrots for pretty half arsed stretches. I leaned back against the wall and wondered, worry hat in place.
Max returned to his hay and I moved forward again to have a feel of his usual trouble spots. Then I decided to do a bit of reiki, because it was just so obvious to me that something was troubling him.
He had some quite cool spots around his stifles, and his heart and chest were really warm, his neck, hot.
So I was assessing… I kept feeling with my hands, and getting an idea of a general malaise from him, like yes, a bit stiff and sore, but a bit off colour too. Nothing serious, just “blah”.
I got to his forehead, and placed one hand in the centre, and one under his jaw. Another sigh, and he leaned into me, just taking what was on offer, and what I was offering him was love and reassurance. He had stopped eating, stopped chewing, though he had some hay in his mouth, and stood really still. I put my head against his, and he twitched his ears at me, as if he was listening.
“I’ll look after you Max, don’t worry. Now tell me what’s wrong.” I didn’t say it, I thought it.
And then he did.
He leaned a little harder, and then pulled back and turned so we had eye contact. I took my hands away from him because it felt like I should. I hunkered down on the straw bank and looked up at him, and he lowered his head down to mine and blew softly against my face and then I got a really clear picture in my head…
A message or a memory?
I saw myself the day before, holding Max, but it was from Max’s perspective: Not my view of Max as I held him, but Max’s view of me holding him. And then eureka! In walked the vet and gave him his flu/tet jab in the neck.
And there we have it. His neck is sore, I have no doubt, because of the jab. He’s feeling off and a bit stiff because that often happens after flu jabs for us, too.
Phew!
Of course, I’m not taking that as the definitive answer, and I’ll be looking at him closely tomorrow. He’s not off his food, he’s not moving badly, so I know he’s basically OK, just not himself. And that the jab caused it makes perfect sense and filled me with such relief.
I stood again and said out loud, “You’ll feel better tomorrow sweetpea. Thanks for explaining.”
Another sigh, and then he just tucked his big head into my chest for a bit and I gave him an ear scratch, then a polo.
Yes, of course I may have remembered about the jab all on my own, with or without the reiki and direct questioning. Because Max surely couldn’t be so in tune with me that he could tell me himself, right? Of course not! What horse could possibly do that? They’re just “dumb” animals after all, with a job to do and nothing more.
However it happened, whether it was my concentrating that retrieved a very recent but forgotten event, or whether Max helped is conjecture. There will be those who have no trouble believing it, those who are sceptical but would like to believe it, and those who snort and call it sentimental claptrap with no basis in reality.
I can ably argue all three points of view, but between Max and I, I think he and I know what happened this morning: I asked, he answered, I listened.
That’s all that matters.
Monday 7 January 2008
"Pair of what?"
Ho, ho, ho…
That was Max today, with his new taste sensation.
I did take him toast and marmite this morning, and he was, again, quite delighted by it.
Worked the yard as usual, knowing the vet was coming to dole out the flu jabs. Max was due, so he was in the queue.
He was good as gold, as he pretty much always is. Not bothered by jabs, my boy, and always happy to meet new people (the vet). I love being there when people meet Max for the first time. There’s inevitably a little gasp and, “Isn’t he beautiful!”
Yes, he totally is.
K was on hand and quick with a polo for Max right after the jab, as a good boy treat. Not that he needed it. He hadn’t realised he’d been a good boy.
I’m not as good with jabs as Max, and can’t watch when either he or Arizona (my elderly cat) need their jabs. Always have to look away and hope vet doesn’t get me by mistake!
Left Max for a bit to hold Mini Me for S. His four week holiday over, he was going driving for the first time in ages, and S wanted a hand to hold his twitchy head while she harnessed him up. What a palaver all that is! Much easier to throw a saddle on. I’m baffled by the intricacy of it all, but fascinated, too.
Went and held the gate open for them when they were ready, and MM was off, a perfect star, with his high stepping walk.
At rest, he stands like a ballerina, little hooves splayed out to each side, like he’s about to attempt a plie! Love that little monkey man.
As Max had had his jab, and I had stupidly forgotten to bring his clean bridle & bit back to the yard, I decided to do the family grocery shopping, and stop back in at the yard on my way home.
Now we are leading to Max’s new taste sensation. I bought pears, partly because I fancied them, and partly because I know that some horses rate pears above apples, so I thought I’d give Max a try.
Back to the yard, and found my boy eating the straw from his bed, because he’d got through his morning hay. Stocked him up, renewed his water, and then YO showed up with the worming paste.
A bumper day for Max! Flu jab and worming all in one fell swoop!
He was not impressed, despite YO getting the wormer down his gob before he had a chance to realise what had happened.
“Blech!” tongue out. “Yuck! Ergh! Blech!”
If he could have spit, he would have.
Opportune moment to offer the pear! Held it out to him. Sniff…
“Don’t know what it is, mum. Take it away. No more surprises today, thanks.”
So I bit a chunk out, spit it into my palm and offered again.
“Hmm… Since you seem to like it, OK, I'll try...” and tentative lips wrapped around the offering, took pear chunk in, and had a thoughtful chew.
“Yum! You got more?”
“Yes, lots more. You likey?”
“I LIKEY! What is this thing?”
“It’s called a pear.”
Hence the subject line.
Made short work of it, he did, and I’m sure it took the nasty wormer taste out of his mouth.
Left him to it, snug, hayed up, watered up, and peared up.
That was Max today, with his new taste sensation.
I did take him toast and marmite this morning, and he was, again, quite delighted by it.
Worked the yard as usual, knowing the vet was coming to dole out the flu jabs. Max was due, so he was in the queue.
He was good as gold, as he pretty much always is. Not bothered by jabs, my boy, and always happy to meet new people (the vet). I love being there when people meet Max for the first time. There’s inevitably a little gasp and, “Isn’t he beautiful!”
Yes, he totally is.
K was on hand and quick with a polo for Max right after the jab, as a good boy treat. Not that he needed it. He hadn’t realised he’d been a good boy.
I’m not as good with jabs as Max, and can’t watch when either he or Arizona (my elderly cat) need their jabs. Always have to look away and hope vet doesn’t get me by mistake!
Left Max for a bit to hold Mini Me for S. His four week holiday over, he was going driving for the first time in ages, and S wanted a hand to hold his twitchy head while she harnessed him up. What a palaver all that is! Much easier to throw a saddle on. I’m baffled by the intricacy of it all, but fascinated, too.
Went and held the gate open for them when they were ready, and MM was off, a perfect star, with his high stepping walk.
At rest, he stands like a ballerina, little hooves splayed out to each side, like he’s about to attempt a plie! Love that little monkey man.
As Max had had his jab, and I had stupidly forgotten to bring his clean bridle & bit back to the yard, I decided to do the family grocery shopping, and stop back in at the yard on my way home.
Now we are leading to Max’s new taste sensation. I bought pears, partly because I fancied them, and partly because I know that some horses rate pears above apples, so I thought I’d give Max a try.
Back to the yard, and found my boy eating the straw from his bed, because he’d got through his morning hay. Stocked him up, renewed his water, and then YO showed up with the worming paste.
A bumper day for Max! Flu jab and worming all in one fell swoop!
He was not impressed, despite YO getting the wormer down his gob before he had a chance to realise what had happened.
“Blech!” tongue out. “Yuck! Ergh! Blech!”
If he could have spit, he would have.
Opportune moment to offer the pear! Held it out to him. Sniff…
“Don’t know what it is, mum. Take it away. No more surprises today, thanks.”
So I bit a chunk out, spit it into my palm and offered again.
“Hmm… Since you seem to like it, OK, I'll try...” and tentative lips wrapped around the offering, took pear chunk in, and had a thoughtful chew.
“Yum! You got more?”
“Yes, lots more. You likey?”
“I LIKEY! What is this thing?”
“It’s called a pear.”
Hence the subject line.
Made short work of it, he did, and I’m sure it took the nasty wormer taste out of his mouth.
Left him to it, snug, hayed up, watered up, and peared up.
Sunday 6 January 2008
Marmite Max
Do you love it or hate it? Max LOVES it! Had his first bit of marmite spread thinly on toast this morning and went mad for it! Made me laugh while he was eating, because his eyes were registering surprise and delight, his head was nodding emphatically as he chewed the new texture, and then nose out to ask “Is there any more?” Just like Withnail, with the crazed eyes, after he’d downed a can of lighter fluid.
Took us ages to get going today – my fault mostly, but somebody must have put some grouch beans in Max’s breakfast because he was a right grumpy gus. Didn’t want to be touched there, or there, or DON’T EVEN THINK OF THERE!
We did get through it eventually, and I laughed at him a lot, which did little to improve his mood.
We’ve still got flippin’ midges about (in January?!) so I’ve decided to start putting some anti-bacterial gel on Max’s nethers, along with the aloe. He’s still got three little sores on the underside of his sheath, and I think midges might be aggravating them. Hard to get a good look, really. I’m thinking of bringing a mirror in so I can hold it out of the danger zone and check that way without getting my head booted in the process.
So, after a good grooming session, we went out for a wander. He was so stiff and locked this morning, I didn’t want to get straight on his back, but thought I might hop on after he’d worked in a bit.
He was such a big girl’s blouse, even with me on foot. He may have missed The Ent giving him double protection.
We turned up one of the bridleways for a bit of hill work, and that was probably a mistake. Everything was completely mired in mud, and it was very slippy for both of us. Max had one big fright (could not for the life of me figure out what spooked him!) He did a jump and spin, uphill, on slick mud, and I’m surprised we were both still standing upright at the end of it.
Decided to stay off his back until we were on level, dry ground, but he was fine once we did, and we had a nice trot home.
Today’s object of desire: Horse Rhythm Beads in purple. I think. Was looking at them on t’interweb last night and I just love the idea of a strand of beads and bells that Max can wear when we’re out. He is a stealth pony with his bare feet, so it would be a good warning to others that we were on our way. Also, allegedly, the noise produced is good for both horse and rider to focus on, so naturally relaxing, but mostly, ever since the elves in Lord of the Rings (book, not silly films) I’ve loved the idea of horses wearing tinkling bells. I think it was mentioned when Glorfindel met the hobbits & Strider. They heard Glorfindel approaching because of the bells on Asfaloth’s harness.
Anyway, I wants 'em, precious. Yessss. I needs 'em!
Took us ages to get going today – my fault mostly, but somebody must have put some grouch beans in Max’s breakfast because he was a right grumpy gus. Didn’t want to be touched there, or there, or DON’T EVEN THINK OF THERE!
We did get through it eventually, and I laughed at him a lot, which did little to improve his mood.
We’ve still got flippin’ midges about (in January?!) so I’ve decided to start putting some anti-bacterial gel on Max’s nethers, along with the aloe. He’s still got three little sores on the underside of his sheath, and I think midges might be aggravating them. Hard to get a good look, really. I’m thinking of bringing a mirror in so I can hold it out of the danger zone and check that way without getting my head booted in the process.
So, after a good grooming session, we went out for a wander. He was so stiff and locked this morning, I didn’t want to get straight on his back, but thought I might hop on after he’d worked in a bit.
He was such a big girl’s blouse, even with me on foot. He may have missed The Ent giving him double protection.
We turned up one of the bridleways for a bit of hill work, and that was probably a mistake. Everything was completely mired in mud, and it was very slippy for both of us. Max had one big fright (could not for the life of me figure out what spooked him!) He did a jump and spin, uphill, on slick mud, and I’m surprised we were both still standing upright at the end of it.
Decided to stay off his back until we were on level, dry ground, but he was fine once we did, and we had a nice trot home.
Today’s object of desire: Horse Rhythm Beads in purple. I think. Was looking at them on t’interweb last night and I just love the idea of a strand of beads and bells that Max can wear when we’re out. He is a stealth pony with his bare feet, so it would be a good warning to others that we were on our way. Also, allegedly, the noise produced is good for both horse and rider to focus on, so naturally relaxing, but mostly, ever since the elves in Lord of the Rings (book, not silly films) I’ve loved the idea of horses wearing tinkling bells. I think it was mentioned when Glorfindel met the hobbits & Strider. They heard Glorfindel approaching because of the bells on Asfaloth’s harness.
Anyway, I wants 'em, precious. Yessss. I needs 'em!
Thursday 3 January 2008
I'm a prat, I'm a prat, I'm a SUPERSTAR!
Went to the yard early today to get some long lining in with Mr Max before there was a queue for the indoor school. Quite chilly today, a really crisp wind that felt a bit like snow might be coming (and it might, though I don't know that we'll get any in this area). My Canadian snow sense was tingling!
So first, a very quick once over with Max, just making sure his hooves were clear of debris and there wasn't any scratchy mud around his girth area, then long lined him to the school.
Mr Inattentive! Mr You Can’t Make Me! We were in there for 40 minutes all together. Thirty minutes of unco-operative behaviour, waywardness, stubbornness and general pratishness.
Thirty minutes of absolute frustration, and then... Then what a beautiful boy! Ten minutes of absolutely sublime!
The trotting he produced for me, all proud and carrying his head so nicely, picking up his feet, really moving like poetry, and suddenly, listening to every word, every signal, and giving me all the stuff he knows so well how to give.
And was I delighted? Oh! And did Max know it? Oh boy, did he! Showered with praise, lots of click treats, hit the jackpot, he did, and was very pleased with himself.
Then I took him off the lines and we did a bit of loose work, trotting around the school shoulder to shoulder, which he really seems to enjoy. Then I stepped back from him and, for the first time ever, managed to get him from walk, to trot, to CANTER, then back down through his paces again to stand, all by voice!
On both reins!
And he even let me give him a big hug afterwards and tell him he was brilliant. And two polos! Polos are saved for special occasions and very good work, so he crunched happily and blew minty kisses at me.
Got him back to his box on the lines, and then did a big grooming session, which he tolerated with quite a bit of patience. I warmed up his aloe vera gel this time by putting it in the bucket with the boiled water. I let the water cool while I'm getting on with grooming, so it's just nice and warm by the time I come to dealing with his boy bits.
The look on his face when I put the warmed gel on. He was all ready to put his ears back and huff at me and then, ears pricked forward.
"Eh? Why, that's warm... That's... um. Well OK, that's not so bad. I'm not saying I like it, I'm just saying it's OK."
Left the yard by just after 10, came home and did a bit of cleaning, then went to back out to meet a friend for a coffee.
As I was driving back just around half one, I decided to stop by the yard again to put his rug on myself, to tuck him in all nice for going to the field.
Drove in and saw nothing. Stopped to open the gate and looked again, and there was Max's head peeking back at me, with a little whuffle when he saw me looking back at him.
I don't know if he recognises the sound of my car or what, but I took one look and knew he hadn't any hay left.
"Mum! Mum! They didn't feed me lunch. So hungry! Help!"
Hurried over to check, and sure enough, he didn't have a scrap. So I got enough to keep him going for the quarter of an hour he had left in his box. Put it in his hay spot, and he walked over to it, nudged it, and then turned around and nudged me, before going back to chow down.
It was like a little, "Thanks mum. You always come through for me". Aww!
Got his rug, fastened him up all toasty and... oops! Another polo. Well... he had been a good boy after all, and he was just standing there being all handsome, so I couldn't resist. That's a special occasion, right?
So first, a very quick once over with Max, just making sure his hooves were clear of debris and there wasn't any scratchy mud around his girth area, then long lined him to the school.
Mr Inattentive! Mr You Can’t Make Me! We were in there for 40 minutes all together. Thirty minutes of unco-operative behaviour, waywardness, stubbornness and general pratishness.
Thirty minutes of absolute frustration, and then... Then what a beautiful boy! Ten minutes of absolutely sublime!
The trotting he produced for me, all proud and carrying his head so nicely, picking up his feet, really moving like poetry, and suddenly, listening to every word, every signal, and giving me all the stuff he knows so well how to give.
And was I delighted? Oh! And did Max know it? Oh boy, did he! Showered with praise, lots of click treats, hit the jackpot, he did, and was very pleased with himself.
Then I took him off the lines and we did a bit of loose work, trotting around the school shoulder to shoulder, which he really seems to enjoy. Then I stepped back from him and, for the first time ever, managed to get him from walk, to trot, to CANTER, then back down through his paces again to stand, all by voice!
On both reins!
And he even let me give him a big hug afterwards and tell him he was brilliant. And two polos! Polos are saved for special occasions and very good work, so he crunched happily and blew minty kisses at me.
Got him back to his box on the lines, and then did a big grooming session, which he tolerated with quite a bit of patience. I warmed up his aloe vera gel this time by putting it in the bucket with the boiled water. I let the water cool while I'm getting on with grooming, so it's just nice and warm by the time I come to dealing with his boy bits.
The look on his face when I put the warmed gel on. He was all ready to put his ears back and huff at me and then, ears pricked forward.
"Eh? Why, that's warm... That's... um. Well OK, that's not so bad. I'm not saying I like it, I'm just saying it's OK."
Left the yard by just after 10, came home and did a bit of cleaning, then went to back out to meet a friend for a coffee.
As I was driving back just around half one, I decided to stop by the yard again to put his rug on myself, to tuck him in all nice for going to the field.
Drove in and saw nothing. Stopped to open the gate and looked again, and there was Max's head peeking back at me, with a little whuffle when he saw me looking back at him.
I don't know if he recognises the sound of my car or what, but I took one look and knew he hadn't any hay left.
"Mum! Mum! They didn't feed me lunch. So hungry! Help!"
Hurried over to check, and sure enough, he didn't have a scrap. So I got enough to keep him going for the quarter of an hour he had left in his box. Put it in his hay spot, and he walked over to it, nudged it, and then turned around and nudged me, before going back to chow down.
It was like a little, "Thanks mum. You always come through for me". Aww!
Got his rug, fastened him up all toasty and... oops! Another polo. Well... he had been a good boy after all, and he was just standing there being all handsome, so I couldn't resist. That's a special occasion, right?
Wednesday 2 January 2008
Hunt? What Hunt?
Yard wore me completely out today. The "day" horses went out really early yesterday, and came back in early too (because of the Hunt) so the boxes were diabolical. They were skipped out, of course (that happens routinely) but even so...
Was very pleased today to hear that Max was totally non-plussed by the hunting events yesterday.
Max wasn't bothered by the lorries, the strange, excited horses, or the mad vibe from his yard mates, either.
I know my boy has watched many a hunt go by from the field, but apparently he was a little pocket of calm in the midst of mayhem.
Was very pleased today to hear that Max was totally non-plussed by the hunting events yesterday.
Max wasn't bothered by the lorries, the strange, excited horses, or the mad vibe from his yard mates, either.
I know my boy has watched many a hunt go by from the field, but apparently he was a little pocket of calm in the midst of mayhem.
Tuesday 1 January 2008
Happy New Year
We had the New Year's Day (practice) Hunt today, actually using our yard and our fields, so I decided not to do anything with Max. I could have buzzed him round the indoor school, but I'd hate to bring him out of that into commotion, and we were anticipating chaos from 10.30 am onwards. All horses kept in until festivities were over, so I guess Max & Jester went to their field late today, which doesn't bother me.
We had such a good grooming session yesterday! I sung him Kookaburra over and over, really softly, while I did all his tidying up, and he was just about snoozing by the end of it. Just stood still, head low, and would move his lips to accept click/treats when offered, but made no bold moves.
Not so much today, though things were already exciting (lots of shooting nearby) and I took a shortcut with a sheath wipe, which he did not appreciate. Man, he wanted to kick me so bad! Had that hind leg up shaking in a "Why I oughta!" way, but of course made no move to follow through, and when I tap the leg and say "Down Max" he puts it back on the floor and shakes his head at me instead. “Grrr!”
We had such a good grooming session yesterday! I sung him Kookaburra over and over, really softly, while I did all his tidying up, and he was just about snoozing by the end of it. Just stood still, head low, and would move his lips to accept click/treats when offered, but made no bold moves.
Not so much today, though things were already exciting (lots of shooting nearby) and I took a shortcut with a sheath wipe, which he did not appreciate. Man, he wanted to kick me so bad! Had that hind leg up shaking in a "Why I oughta!" way, but of course made no move to follow through, and when I tap the leg and say "Down Max" he puts it back on the floor and shakes his head at me instead. “Grrr!”
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About Me
- maczona
- The diary of a young horse and a not quite so young novice. What happens when you decide to return to riding after years away from it and suddenly find yourself buying a horse, and a very young horse at that? Who teaches who?