Pain or feign?

Max was less than co-operative today for his grooming session, and was full of hind leg raises with menaces and tail swishing any time I touched his sides, his belly or his hind legs with brush or rubber grooming glove.

I would have stood back and laughed at him and his scowliness if there wasn’t part of me wondering if something was really wrong. So instead I took my life into my hands and had a feel of the trouble spots. Is that a lump? Er… no, a rib. Ear to belly, stomach sounds seemed fine, were his stifles hot? Swollen? Why can’t he just tell me if it hurts?

What Max didn’t know was that I’d decided to give him the afternoon off, so after a languorous and somewhat fretful grooming session, with breaks for play (when he was fine and all attitude dropped away), I finally got his rug and prepared him for his field.

Once the rug was on and Max clicked that there was to be no work today, I found I could touch him anywhere with no answering glower, fits of pique or "why I oughta" threats. Funny, that.

We walked up to his field, but we had to make one unexplained stop on the way. Max has been doing this stop every time I’ve taken him to his field lately, and today I finally figured out why.

Instead of trying to coax him on, I just stopped with him, and waited. Eventually he looked hopefully over at my car and I realised what he was thinking. He knows that my car sometimes harbours carrots and pony nuts because he’s often stood with me while I’ve retrieved them for him.

Nice try, Max. Would be more effective if you weren’t chewing the pear I'd just given you while wistfully looking for automotive treats.