Stepping out with a lack of shenanigans

So far so good! Can’t say we’ve cracked the “dealing with scary stuff” on just our second day, but I had a decidedly laid-back Max as my companion today. Our only real incident was when he clonked me on the head by mistake, and when I yelped "Max! That hurt!" the little tinker went straight into offering a kiss mode!

We went out in hand again, but saddled up, as I intended to mount up when the time felt right.

We meandered at a fairly leisurely pace up the road; I just let him find his groove rather than trying to get him to step out smartly. As a result, he was very relaxed.

We turned up the bridleway to the right, which now has geese hidden behind the bordering hedge, with some orange plastic flappy fencing as well. Didn’t bat an eye, but the geese have never worried him.

Up a muddy hill, with a couple of stops but no real anxiety. Both times Max was quickly ready to move forward again with no urging from me (but praise when he did so on his own).

Down another hill, stopped to look at some alpacas, which had also attracted a walker with yappy, excited dogs. Max had a thoughtful look, and then figuratively shrugged and walked on again.

His whole demeanour was chilled. No tension in his body, his eye very relaxed, his mouth quiet. He walked with more bounce and speed after he’d warmed up, and at some points it was clear to see he was rather enjoying himself.

Then we met two Other Horses. They were coming down a hill that we were about to go up, and I wondered if the trouble was about to start. Max is a great one for wanting to follow Other Horses when we’re out on our own.

Nope. Watched them walk by, pleasantries exchanged with the riders (“Are you all right?” asked with some concern because I was walking beside my horse rather than riding him), and we were off again, on our intended path, no fuss, no hesitation.

Finally found a convenient stile to use as a mounting block, and we headed home. I was delighted that still, I could feel no tension in Max at all. He remained just as easy-going as he had been when I was on the ground.

He very handily picked his way down a muddy track, then we did a little trotting until we got home.

Piece of cake!

As we were walking I was thinking about the people who either asked directly, or looked askance at my leading a fully capable horse when I could be riding him.

I remember when I was only about six or seven years old, before I could ride a two wheeler, I used to delight in running around the block, wheeling my brother's bike with me. I used to pretend it was a horse! Not quite sure why it delighted me so much, but I had as much fun doing that as I ever did actually riding a bike, once I learned how.

One sunny afternoon, as I rounded the corner with my brother’s bike, I heard a few of his friends calling out to him, pointing out his idiot little sister in mocking tones. “She's got your bike again and she can’t even ride it!”

My heart sank. I figured my brother would be embarrassed by his peers, take the bike away from me and tell me to go home.

Not a bit of it. He turned on them and said, “So what? Is she hurting anybody? She’s having fun, so leave her alone!”

I hadn’t thought about that little vignette in years! A very pertinent memory, though. I’m still having fun and I’m not hurting anybody, so maybe it’s time for me to stop feeling I have to make excuses or try to explain that for me, Max isn’t just about the riding.