This little piggy went postal...

I think Max likes Saturdays. It's kind of like work, but kind of like a day off too. I'm at the yard all day, so lots of time to make a fuss of him, and then at noon, the Ent comes over and we take him out for a walk. Two people on the ground suits Max, because he's got his whole self, including his ample bum, covered.

It was drizzly and a bit cold, but off we went. I commented on the fact that Max has become much more forward going on these walks, lately. It used to be a real plod with the people having to shuffle along to match Max's reluctant shamble. Now we all keep up a pretty normal walking pace on the lane, and once off it, pick up pace to stay with Max's eager strut.

The only blot on the landscape was a new pig in the pen by the lane. The resident pig barely raised an eye at our passing, and Max, being accustomed to it, was fairly relaxed too. Until the new pig charged him!

I was walking ahead so alerted by the clatter of those Riverdancin' hooves. I turned to see Max turned to face the pig, eyes big with surprise, at the end of his long lead rope.

"Come on, Max" the Ent chuckled. "He can't come through the fence."

Max trotted briskly on, to me, and snorted his alarm and affront.

We turned off the lane to a rolling field of grass, and here Max and the Ent had a play. I had no wish to keep up, so dawdled along behind, while Max went into his proud Arab trot, and the Ent ran along beside him, easily keeping pace.

I wished I had a camera as I watched from a distance, man and horse, fluorescent green field, dappled grey sky... But a lens wouldn't have captured the delight I felt as I watched Max moving so fluidly against that pretty background, or the laugh that erupted as Max did a double take of the Ent, still beside him, and leaped to the side in surprise, or the warm contentment at the sight of the Ent putting a reassuring hand on Max's neck and giving him a pat.

I like Saturdays too.