But what if he comes at me with a pointed stick?

Bareback buddies again today, in the school. I am so intrigued by the bareback sessions and they really make me think. Reactions from Max to tiny little shifts in my posture, and then I have to think about what I did to get the reaction and try to recreate it. Everything is amplified, and I enjoy how it gets us working together in a different way.

I had one success, I think. I found when starting off from a standstill, I was really lurching to one side, out of balance, and could see the immediate reaction in Max. A couple of times I was such baggage on his back that he stopped dead, ears trained back, with an air of, “Sort yourself out, woman. I won’t move until you do!”

So we did lots of practicing, with me really concentrating on how I was holding myself and on my balance, moving with Max rather than against him. I can’t describe exactly what I did, but it had to do with lifting myself more upright, and holding myself together so that I could move with more fluidity and move with Max’s movements rather than being confounded by them. Took a few goes, but I was definitely improving, and Max was cutting me some slack and walking on rather than stopping and demanding adjustments.

Today’s comedy moment is brought to you by Max’s schooling whip (again).

We left the school, and I was leading him, and trying to open the gate back to the yard. Hands full, I held the stick under my arm, held Max with one hand, and opened the gate with the other.

I felt a tug, and at the same time heard the YO call out “Don’t let him do that!”

Oh yes, Max had the stick in his teeth once more. I turned to look, rolled my eyes and turned back to YO with a smile as she continued:

“That’s dangerous! If they get hold of your stick, they can poke you in the eye with it! Not to be encouraged.”

I nodded. I agreed, in fact. Nothing but good advice there, but I pressed my lips together to swallow laughter and turned back to Max, chuckling quietly.

“Crunch, snap!” broken in a new place.

“Give it back Max! You’re showing me up!”

“Crunch, snap!” broken in two new places.

“Really Max! Drop it.”

“Heh, heh, heh! You got told off! Go on, lady, try and get it away from me. I dares ya!”

I pulled, he pulled back, and eventually gave in, dropping the stick, now bent awkwardly at odd angles. I picked it up and walked him on through the gate.

Back to his stable, still laughing.

“So what’s the list then, sir? You can stand on my feet and mash my toes, you can knock me on the noggin and make me see stars, you can push me into walls and squash me, you can trample over me, you can buck me off, you can kick me, you can bite me… And now, you can poke me in the eye with sharp sticks as well."

“I can also menace you with my tail, drag you through bushes, deposit you in puddles and give you nasty rope burn on your delicate wee hands.”

“I’m trading you in for a hamster, Max.”

“Of course you are, and I’m trading you in for a bag of carrots.”