Punk!

That sums up Max today. He was such an ornery git! I know he's almost six, but he's going through the terrible twos. "NO NO NO! You canna make me!"

Or is he? When we have bad days like this, there's always part of me - most of me - wondering how I'm failing him. Is he really just being stroppy, or am I confusing him?

Decided to ride him in the school after work today, to try and hone in on a few things and improve his manners a little. The improving his manners came about from an incident this morning. I can usually walk into his box, ask him politely to move back, which he unfailingly does, and then go about whatever it was I wanted to do for him.

Not today.

"Back, Max, please."

"Coming through! Out now! Out, out, out! What is this twig in my way? I shall toss it aside with my big self."

And he barged past me and out into the yard without his head collar.

"Max! MAX!"

Managed to retrieve his head collar while holding a chunk of his mane, and had to truss him up and lead him back.

"What the heck was that about, young sir?"

"I want to see stuff!"

Not my boy at all. He's never been bargey. So a little ridden work in the school, I thought.

We fought through tacking up "Get off me! Get off! Grr!"

We went off to the school, I mounted up and he walked away while I was still trying to settle "Max! Stand! For Heaven's Sake, you know better than this!"

We continued on in a constant tussle, "This way" "No, that way", "Max, listen to me!" "No, you listen to me!"

I tried to walk him in, but he wasn't having it. I tried to hold my legs totally off him and just direct with seat, but he wasn't having it. Was I really asking for what he was giving me, or was he just having a moment of his own?

I kept stopping him, gathering him up, relaxing my whole self and trying again, but he fought me at every turn.

Got off, checked saddle, checked everything. Tried no stirrups, tried adjusting myself so I was light and upright, but he fought, fought, fought me every inch of the way.

Finally got a few good turns at a reasonable trot where he wasn't trying to tank off, and slid off him.

Looked back at my boy from the ground, and saw those familiar, kind, eager to please eyes.

"I did good?"

"Yes, Max. That last bit was very good indeed."

More groundwork. I feel under so much pressure from the eyes upon us to do regular horse stuff, but Max and I have something to work out, and I'm only going to work it out from the ground. So I must ignore the watchers, and follow my instinct.

Yes, he could just be expressing his opinion because he knows he can. But I've got to listen to my horse, and my horse is telling me ridden school work is a problem.

It's my responsibility to sort it, and sort it I will, with patience and great love for those eager, kind and forgiving eyes. I don't care if it is just Max playing up. He's playing up for a reason, and I will get to the bottom of it by listening to him.

If that makes me soft, then soft is what I want to be.