Who pulled your string, Chatty Cathy?

Max is talking. A lot.

When he was young, Max was pretty vocal. When I moved him from the field he shared with his momma to a livery yard, he bellowed for the whole journey, and once there, he called out for ages as he raced around his field. Once he had settled and was happy with his routine, it was still very common for him to call to me as I went about my business at the yard, when I arrived in the morning, when I went into his field for a play.

When I moved him to his current yard, he travelled with another horse who moved yards with us, the one that is now his field mate. They were quiet on the trip, but for the first little while after they arrived, they always called a greeting to each other.

His field mate, older but not wiser, still calls to Max routinely, especially if he is in the field and Max isn't, or when Max returns from a lone hack. Max long ago stopped answering, with a kind of weary "Yes, yes... I see you. Chill!" nonchalance. He has been a fairly quiet boy, except for the occasional whuffle at me when I approach his stable. A little whuffle is heart-warming and always welcome!

Today, I went to collect him from his field and he was at some distance with his head down, so I called his name, and he answered with a full throated neigh, then walked eagerly over to greet me. Walked because I think trotting is still a bit ouchy.

Settled him in to his delicious, drug-laced breakfast, and left him to it.

Whenever I approached (which admittedly, I did rather a lot) I got another neigh. Not a whuffle, a proper, in yer face both barrels neigh.

When his field mate went out for a wander in hand, Max called again. When two other horses whom he's never really bothered with left the yard for a hack, Max called again.

He seems happy today. He's eating well, doesn't look like he's in pain, bright and alert, with lots to say.

Others at the yard have told me he's just singing his "happy to be home" song. I'd like to believe that's true, and maybe it partially is, but I think he's feeling a little insecure. I think the past few days have rocked his world, and he's regressed to the young boy who isn't quite sure of his footing or what's going to happen to him next.

I talked to my dad on the phone last night. He had called to check on Max, and I told him how Max seemed wary of the world and how that saddened me. "Well," my dad said, "You can understand it. He's thinking 'What have they done to me? What will they do next?' but he'll get over it. He still trusts you doesn't he? He still follows where you lead."

Heart achingly, yes, he does. After all that he's been through, he is still the same willing boy who will follow me when I ask.

So every call he sent out, I answered, and every call I will answer until Max feels settled and comfortable again and sure of his place in the world we share. I'm sure it will be soon, and yes, I do think he's very happy to be home.

The Ent, who had a long drive to and from work yesterday stopped at the yard before he came home. He walked out to Max's field and jangled his keys at him, and Max trotted over happily to see his friend. Sadly, the Ent did not have any treats for Max (who walks around with no Extra Strong Mints in their pocket for Max, eh? Not me!).

I love that the Ent went though, because it shows that Max is not just "my horse", he's part of our family. And I love that Max eagerly went forward because he, too, understands that his family extends beyond me to the man with the soft voice and gentle hands.

No report on "the big drop" yet. He's still too swollen. Is he being fussed by his groupies? You bet he is! Just about everybody who arrived on the yard today greeted me with "How is he? Is it OK if I give him a ... (select your treat)."

And one, hopefully last, girlie cry from me when my friend S showed up, checked on Max, and then came over and checked on me. "You must be so relieved. This must have been so hard, but he's home now. Are you OK?" and ridiculously, I felt the tears fall again as I got wrapped in a hug. The relief to have him home is huge, but I'm still so worried after what he's been through, and despite the fact that I think this op will work, I feel so mean for putting him through it.

Does he doubt me? Probably not. He's in the moment, and he's not holding a grudge, or wondering why he's sore, or blaming me. I just wish I could explain...