From ghoulies and ghosties and long legged beasties...

... and things that go bump on the other side of the hedge, dear Lord, deliver Max.

The mischievous spirits are gathering for All Hallows' Eve, and today, they descended upon the head of a young pony.

I thought today Max and I would just go for a long, relaxing walk together, side by side. We set off happily enough, Max a bit grumpy but once we turned off the lane he perked up and we were moving along quite nicely, me chattering away and Max occasionally stopping to look at me. This always appears to me like a pause to say "Really? You don't say!"

Thus we were in amiable companionship when suddenly a noise from the hedge to our right, a sudden flurry, and Max lost his cool and broke away from me.

I had no thought to see what had spooked him, I just wanted him to calm down, stop and let me collect him. After my initial "Max! Max!" of surprise, I checked myself, lowered my voice a few registers and approached him slowly. He turned and allowed himself to be collected, but he was on high alert.

I turned to look back over my shoulder to see the commotion was caused by a dog, whose owner asked if we were all right. They were on slightly higher ground than us with a dense hedge between us. I suppose if I had been riding I might have seen over the hedge and been better able to prepare, but as it was, the dog was a surprise to both Max and I, and I counted myself lucky that no harm was done, and at least we weren't on the road.

We carried on, but I soon re-calculated my route realising that taking Max for long hill walks in open fields was no longer a good idea. He looked beautiful, all arched neck and prancey, but I knew he was slightly unhinged and it wouldn't take much to set him off again, and on foot over slippery ground it was unlikely that I'd be able to contain him. Why court disaster?

So we did a slightly shorter route, stuck to the bridleways, had a couple of arguments and a few more scares

"What's that?"

"Cow."

"Oh my god! What's THAT?"

"Tractor."

"In the name of all that's holy, what on earth is THAT?!"

"Sun reflecting off white plastic near more cows."

We had a little trot to work off some of Max's energy and as we turned for home he began to visibly relax. Finally the yard was in sight and then...

Bang! Rustle! Crash! Fumble!

Lost Max again. On the road this time, but luckily no cars, and being so close to home, he just hurried up the yard's back drive and turned to wait for me to join him with his eyes out on stalks.

"What is it? You're doomed! It will surely devour you. Not me though right?"

A friendly neighbour was up a tree on the other side of another hedge shaking something out of it. Apples? Birds? Sprites? Don't know, but it caused one heck of a hullabaloo, and not in a good way. The one downside of Max's bare feet is that I think sometimes people just don't hear him so don't think twice about sudden moves and loud bangs as they might if they heard a shod horse clipping along the pavement.

I collected Max again, managed to lead him (sideways, on tiptoes, nudging me towards the monster as a sacrifice) past the commotion, then finally home for his carrot stretches.

The last thing I expected today was an adventure, but sometimes adventures are thrust upon us.

You have got to be kidding!

Just looked ahead on the five day forecast for our local area, and Wednesday is headed "Sleet Showers".

Oh please! Already? Sleet? Must it be so?

And clocks went back this morning, so it's dark an hour earlier and feels like hunkering down season is upon us.

No matter. Today was dreary and wet, but mild, and Max and I found a space between the raindrops to have a little trundle about. We worked in the school first for about half an hour on trotting and bending, and then went out up the lane to look at the geese and a brand new baby calf, then high tailed it back to the yard as dark clouds threatened.

I went back over at about four o'clock to return my clean bridle to the tack room, and also to give Max his morning's toast & marmite, which I had carelessly left behind.

I took it to him in his field, and as a result caused an outbreak of Commotion. Max may think of me as his, and all things I bring or hold about my person as his too, but the Other Horses see me as their food slave because that's what I do for them just about every day. They can't understand why Max gets special treatment, and Max is indignant that he is expected to share his person, let alone any treats his person might be harbouring.

Max is not the boss of the field, but second in command (of three, so second is a fairly lowly standing) and things got a little fraught as boss tried to muscle in on the marmite, and Max was torn between deference to boss, and righteous outrage over infringement on his total ownership.

He didn't share and he didn't back down, but he did position me between himself and the boss as a precaution. As for the third "low horse on the totem pole" he didn't even get a look in.

How he do that?

Houdini strikes again.

I left Max yesterday, in his lightweight rug, playing happily with his pony pal.

This morning I arrived at the yard in the dark. Max was brought in with three others by the YO's husband, and I did a quick glance, thought to self "Hmm... Max doesn't look like he's wearing his rug... Nah. Trick of the light!" and I went off to get my gloves then walked back to collect him.

Definitely no rug. Naked, decidedly soggy pony greeted me with a happy whuffle.

"Where's your rug, Max?" I asked.

"What rug?"

Too dark to look for it, so I waited until there was a little light, stomped back to his field and lo, there it was in a muddy heap.

I was glad to find it, and equally glad that however Max had managed to wriggle out of it, he hadn't got entangled or hurt himself in the bargain.

Picked it up to look and there was no damage. It was also still completely fastened in every place it should have been fastened.

Monkey! How he take it off, the wriggly boy?

Set it on the straw bales in the barn to dry, and carried on with the morning's chores, interrupted by one lost dog (found closed in one of the boxes with the lot who'd been brought in) and one semi-cast three year old. The thumping against the walls alerted me. Ran over to find gangly youngster scrambling his feet against the wall of his stable. While I was calculating what to do, he managed to right himself, stand up, and then came to the door and planted his big head against me, blowing with surprise and alarm, with wild eyes.

"Goodness, that was a pickle!" I soothed. "You're ok now though, aren't you, my lovely?"

Stood with him for ages until he settled, assured myself that he was undamaged, then back to work.

This afternoon was glorious, and Max and I were invited to join another livery and her old horse for a hack. Thinking back on it now, I think it's the first hack Max has been out in the company of Another Horse this year. Hard to believe, but true.

We had a wonderful time, and Max was good as gold. Very happy and relaxed to follow his senior, settled leader, and in the end, quite happy to be the upstart and jog past him, while the oldie picked up his game to show the young pretender that he must respect his elders and know his place.

Really perfect afternoon, with fluorescent green fields and bright sunshine casting long shadows on an idyllic Hampshire landscape, and two happy horses who rubbed along together very well.

Back to the yard for carrot stretches and rug adjustments, and lots of praise for young Max who was a brilliant boy today. Sure footed and keen, tireless and sturdy, playful and alert.

What more could I ask? Another day in paradise, reminding me of why I held on to that "one day I'll have my own horse" dream for so many years.

Max ecstatic

A long morning at the yard which went on a little longer than it should have because sometimes, with horses, it's just like that.

I try on Wednesday to finish with enough of a window of time to do a little something with Max before I go off to the other job, but today it couldn't be done.

I'd brought him three little organic carrots for carrot stretches, and a tiny pear as his final treat. This would have been after he'd worked, but as there was no work, and therefore no reason to stretch (I don't like to ask him to stretch if he hasn't warmed up first) I decided to just put the offering in his feed bowl as a special Wednesday treat.

How delighted was Max? He heard them go in with a tumble and clunk, and came back to investigate, while I stood beside him. I love to watch him eat, and I love the sound of it, too. A funny thing, because listening to people eat loudly really does my head in, but listening to Max chomp and smack is a source of great delight.

Even better today. First he found the pear, lifted it out and chomped. I waited for the delirious expression pears put on his face, and there it was. Not just the expression though, because I was close beside him, so he leaned his head against mine while he chomped.

Then back in for a carrot, a bit of pear slobber still dripping, and again, leaned his head against mine and chomped, sighed and blinked with happiness. Same for the second carrot, and same for the third.

When he'd finished, checked to really make sure there was nothing left, he turned his head to me again, planted a soft "kiss" on my cheek and then turned back to the front of his box to get to work on his lunch time hay.

I left him with kind words, the promise of good things and more time tomorrow and a wonderful picture in my head of my happy horse, who greets his simple treasures in life with great gusto and thankfulness.

I will endeavour to follow his fine example of joy in the little things that make life BIG.

Here be monsters!

Max had a new song sung to him today, an old favourite courtesy of Lou Reed: "It's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you..."

I managed my time well enough today to put in time at the office, get home for lunch and get back to the yard for a hack before the afternoon shift of mucking out began. This will be our new Tuesday routine as the nights begin to draw in. They haven't yet, but clocks will go back soon, and I'd like the routine to be set before they do.

Max was a perfect gent today. We weren't out for ages, but we were out alone, with no walk in hand warm up. Mounted in the yard, and off we went. Beautiful, still day, blue sky, bright sunshine and just a little chill in the air.

Our only moment to pause and consider was when we approached "the sheep field". I guess they're doing silage or something, but there are great, separate mounds, covered in heavy (shiny) polythene held down with masses of old tyres. The sun glints off the plastic, the wind ruffles the plastic, and for all the world, to a cautious but curious pony, it must look like a great sea serpent stranded on land and looking for a tasty meal.

Max paused as the creature glinted at him in the distance.

"What the devil?" he asked.

The pause was short, I urged him on and my distinct lack of alarm seemed to satisfy him that it was safe to proceed and investigate. The serpent was obviously sleeping with a full belly, so we plodded past with barely a snort.

On the way home we stopped to watch the dreaded pigs, which hold no fear for Max now. He insists that the smell of them offends his delicate equine nose, but other than that, he's not bovvered.

It is clipping season now for many of the horses on our yard, and our YO is dutifully spending hours shaving long woolly hair off some of the finer competition horses on our yard. No need for Max now, and I'll reconsider if he starts getting too hot from his work, but I'd prefer to leave him au naturel.

The daily clipping though, despite best efforts to sweep up, leaves little tumbleweeds of horse hair blowing about the yard, and occasionally, a ring of horse hair in the clipping room if we leave it a little while before getting in there with the broom.

It was thus when we returned to the yard, and Max was curious.

"How comes this?" he asked. "Why is the hair not on the Other Horses where it belongs?"

"Oh Max," I explained. "They were too full of mischief. Mischief in the cooler weather causes too much heat, and it's a dangerous time for horses."

"Why?"

"The heat of the mischief builds up and BOOM, they explode, leaving only a circle of hair to tell the tale."

Max was aghast.

"Ponies too?" he wondered.

"Especially ponies," I confirmed. "So you'll want to keep a lid on the mischief, sir."

"Boom?" Max asked, clearly shaken.

"KaBoom!"

This new information was taken in thoughtfully. I've already told him that if a horse eats chocolate his mane will fall out, so there has been no need for me to share chocolate with him since.

"I'll save my mischief for when you're with me, then" Max concluded after his think. "If I go, I'm taking you out with me!"

Oh well. It was worth a shot!

It was a perfect day and I'm glad I spent it with him.

Who you?

I took Max out to his field today, following his two mates. So far so same old thing.

We got through the gate last, the other two had their head collars off, and I tried to lead Max forward, but he wouldn't go. I looked at him questioningly and noted the startled expression on his face.

"Don't know him!" he said, staring at his young field mate.

Said young field mate, who loves Max with a big love, had been clipped at the weekend, and as such, was wearing a new tartan rug with hood to keep him comfy warm..

"Don't be silly Max," I coaxed, as field mate came eagerly forward to greet his best pal.

Max took a hesitant step backwards, stopping when his friend gave him a little call.

"I don't talk to strangers," Max sniffed, and tucked his head behind my shoulder.

I led him to the water trough next to the field mate he did recognise, and then baldy with the new rug pushed in to demand acknowledgement.

Tentatively Max met his nose and sniffed.

"Oh! It's you! Why dincha say so? What this gear?" he asked, pulling at the rug with his teeth. "You look like a girl!"

Happy again, they trotted off together, leaving us standing at the gate laughing at Max and his confusion over a tartan hooded rug and a new haircut.

Charm offensive

Disarmed again, by Mr Max and his mysterious ways. That pony has a way of setting my world to rights and hushing my hectics thoughts, quieting my unquiet mind and pulling my focus in tight, on him.

I have to learn to get a bit less fraught about Fridays. I always feel like I should have all the time in the world to get what needs doing done, but it never turns out that way. Early morning shift at the yard, race through it, race home, feed cats, clean litter box, shower, change, grab something to eat and off to the office job, where I spend a relentless three or four hours barely coming up for air. Then high tail it to the yard to make sure Max has something to eat before I go and forage for supplies at the local supermarket, then home, feed cats, unpack groceries, change, grab something to eat and race back to the yard with a "To do" list in my head of what must be done there, and then when I get home.

I arrive at the yard whipped into a self-induced frenzy, telling myself I should chill out before I handle my lovely horse, because he doesn't need to eat my stress.

I arrived back today and Max was tied up outside while his box was being mucked out.

Got out of the car to open the gate and Max turned to look at me, and gave me a lusty whuffle of welcome. Got back in my car to park up, then back to close the gate. Another whuffle, eager and beckoning.

Walked over to Max and got the vibrating nostrils with tiny little whuffles "Good to see you. Why so stressy? Peaceful here, and I'm happy to see you, my friend. "

And... relax!

He fixed his big eyes on me and gave me a kind, assessing stare. He ruffled my hair and offered his nose, he breathed short little tickly breaths in my ear and nudged me fondly. He lifted all his feet when asked for a clean out and reminded me why I do all the mad rushing round, so I can have these moments of stillness with my Max.

Rug off, fly spray on

It's like August out there today. Brilliant blue sky, hot in the sunshine, and yes, the annoying insects are back.

Yesterday I kept Max's rug off when I turned him out, but went back to him later to rug up because the nights have been quite chilly. The minimum temperature tonight is set to be about 15 degrees Celsius, so no need to sneak back to the yard to make sure Max is warm enough. Happy nekkid Max with his nekkid mates out under the hot sun and the bright moon.

Max went for a long walk with his friend, the Ent, yesterday. It was quite charming really, as they hadn't seen each other for over a week, and whilst the Ent went about his business on the yard, Max watched him with an eager expression. I think Max had missed him!

He was fairly well behaved except for a little al fresco grazing and the odd stop and hard stare at nothing in particular.

Today we just did some work with our version of lunging on his Dually. It's not true lunging, and in just the Dually I'm certainly not getting him into any kind of outline, but it doesn't matter. It's just for exercise and lots of breaks for praise and wither scratches. It was hot enough, and Max furry enough with his incoming winter coat, to work him into a light sweat.

It looks like we have a week of Indian summer ahead of us, and it's very welcome indeed. Tomorrow my Canadian friends and family will be celebrating Thanksgiving. Just another day for Max and I, no long weekend, no pumpkin pie and certainly no turkey, but lots to be thankful for, there's no doubt about that!

Sunshine on a rainy day

The blog has been quiet because there haven't been any tales to tell. I blame the weather. Max and I haven't been getting up to many adventures, just hunkering down and scowling at the clouds together.

He's still getting lunged once a week by the YO, and he's beginning to work really nicely. I don't mean he's becoming more polite or obedient, I mean he's learning how to use his body to best effect. The knock on from that is that he does it for me now too, and I can feel the difference working him in hand and ridden. It's not perfect, it's not exactly the way I wanted things to be, but YO, with all her experience, knowledge and skill, is much more clear in her directions for Max, and now that he knows what clear feels like, he is working wonders at interpreting my "fuzzy" directions, which in turn helps me to fine tune and become less fuzzy.

It's been pitching it down with rain today, but very mild with it. I had hoped to get to Max early enough to do something with him before my yard work shift started, but it was very miserable and neither of us felt like getting our heads round work, so we just hung out, stretched our legs a bit and had a laugh before I released him and his new best mate to their field together.

Slogged through the yard work. It all feels an uphill struggle when the rain is relentless, and even with waterproofs on, I still get soaked through. Everything is soggy, heavy and the straw and hay clings everywhere.

By the end of mucking out duties, the sky cleared a bit, and I went out to say my goodbyes to Max.

The approach to his field is a bit of a walk, and I can see him long before he sees me. As I walked towards him, I could survey the scene, four bums at the far end of two fields, no faces to greet me. I made no calls to draw attention to myself, but suddenly Max's head was up from grazing, and he turned to look at me. The three others still showed me their bums and a complete lack of interest, but Max continued to watch my approach, ears pricked forward.

I smiled, because I could almost convince myself that he sensed me, or heard my footstep, which was different from other footsteps so that he could distinguish between "somebody" and me.

I opened the gate, ducked under the electric tape and made a few steps towards him, still saying nothing. Max then began to walk towards me. I stopped walking and let him approach.

It may seem silly and bland to others, but for me, to see this big, divine creature with all that muscle and power walk forward eagerly to greet me because he chooses to is a never ending source of delight. It is also humbling.

"Hello Max," I said as he reached me and offered his nose. "A bit soggy?"

Head nod.

"I'm taking off home now, wish I could take you with me. I'll be back first thing tomorrow, and I'm at the yard all morning, so I can make a fuss of you. Maybe we'll do a bit of something when I finish working, ok?"

"OK, lady. Bring toast and marmite."

"So be good, take care, stay safe and sound. Watch out for your mates, don't hoon around in the mud like hooligans, it's slippery."

"As if."

"And I love you heaps. Cobblers gorgeous boy!"

"Cobblers" is our family rendition of "God bless." Once upon a time, when I lived alone except for my cats, I'd never leave the house without calling out, "God bless, boys!" Then when it was just Arizona, it became "God bless, kitten, my kitten."

Then I met the Ent, who took up the tradition, but changed it to "Cobblers, kitten Mike!"

So "cobblers" it is, and it still retains all the love, hope and protection of "God bless" in my heart as I say it.

Max tried to hold me there a little longer by going through all his tricks, a leg raised, a head shake, a nod, a nose thrust forward for a kiss.

"I have to go, Max, but thank you... Oh... I seem to have found a pear."

"Gimme!"

There are those who say that Max is spoiled. He's not spoiled. He is pure. He is splendour. He is as unspoiled as a northern Ontario landscape, or Blake's "Songs of Innocence".

The thing about that kind of unspoiled is it disarms and beckons, so that some of the world weary experience just falls away and leaves me with the wonder and hope of a child.

Horses are just for riding? Some of us know better.

Hear deer here dear...

OK, I didn't actually hear them before I saw them, but why compromise a perfectly good title with dreary ol' facts?

Beautiful October afternoon in sunny Hampshire. A little chill in the air, but not too bad, no flies either, which is a bonus.

Mr Max and I went for a lone hack, all ridden. He had his special spook hat on today because it was a bit windy. He was very tall and narrow for pretty much the entire trip, and was forever saying "What's that?!... Oh my God! What's THAT? And THAT?"

None of the "thats" were anything much; the funniest was a mound of dirt strewn across our path "Head for the hills!" exclaimed Max as we trotted sideways past it; the bravest was two old rotten bits of branch a bit farther along the same path. These, even to me, looked like pretty angry snakes, and Max spotted them lurking well before he was upon them.

This is where he baffles me. Imagined danger and we have to dance around and try to turn for home, but something that actually looks like it might be a threat, and although he's cautious he does not hesitate in his approach and gets his head down to give the thing a bloomin' good snort of disapproval!

He did this with the branch snakes, and then stepped over them, exposing his vulnerable belly as I guess he had determined that there was no threat. There was a click treat though, gratefully accepted.

As for the deer, spied them in a stubble field that ran alongside the bridleway we were on. There were seven of them, nibbling at whatever it is deer nibble at, and totally unconcerned by Max and I, although they did spot us and watched our progress. This is the cool thing about seeing the countryside from a horse's back. My line of vision was above the hedgerow, so deer were easily spotted, and also, I sometimes fancy that approach on horseback is less threatening to the critters of field and forest. They scatter when I'm on foot, but not when I'm on Max.

Rugged up little green man again tonight. Although this afternoon has been lovely, blustery rain is called for tonight, so best that he's got a little protection from the wet and chill.

Today we have changed his move forward prompt from "Walk on, Max" to "Rock on, Max".

Because it makes us laugh, that's why.