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.