A horsefly with no name...

... had Max's card marked this afternoon. Nothing kept the tenacious little beastie away and we cut our walk short as a result because Max was livid!

"Get it off! Off I say! Ow!"

He was stamping and swishing his tail, I was in there with the schooling whip shooing the thing away, but it would always alight again. No other insect came near, and no other horsefly either, just this one. It was relentless. Like The Terminator.

So we turned for home, had an easy trot down the lane, and stopped to chat to a very sweet little girl and her older brother. The big brother was indulging his sister's passionate wish to "talk to the horses". Big brothers are good like that.

"Excuse me," she called, as we trotted towards them, "Can I pet your horse, please?"

I looked at that grinning, earnest face and remembered being that eager little girl who only wanted to talk to the horses. Any horses.

"Of course you can!" What else would I say?

She and her brother approached and she chattered away about the different horses on the yard, told me all the names she had memorised, which horse stayed in which field with which other horse, and the fact that she had seen Max before when she was walking home from school, talking faster and faster, her smile getting wider as she stroked Max's nose and looked only at him.

Max was a perfect gent, bowed his head down low for her to easily reach, and didn't make one false move - I was watching him like a hawk!

There are so many horses I remember from my childhood, some I only met once. Maybe one day this little girl will look back to a bright afternoon from her childhood and remember Max.