Shoeless, bitless, bellful!

Max and I made a joyous noise today!

I took him in the school initially, to do a bit more ridden work in his Dr Cook's bitless bridle, which I still have on trial for another couple of weeks. In the past week we've tried the bitless for longeing (pretty good), long-lining (brilliant) and ridden... not so good. Max protests in the strongest possible terms! Then he responds, then he protests some more!

It was the same thing in the school today, generally fairly responsive, and he was doing some really good bending and turning at trot with very little pressure from my fingers. Also reined back nicely but coming to a halt was so-so. If he's going to lose anything in his repertoire, it always seems to be halt/stand.

"Do you mean go really slow? Stop and start again? Shall I just wander aimlessly? Whaddya think?!"

Clearly more groundwork to re-establish this one little thing that keeps slipping out of his memory bank.

I had decided on the school because we're having rather relentless rain, so outside seemed miserable, plus I have a suede saddle, plus it is a bitless trial and if Max is going to go doo-lally and feral, I'd rather not be on my own.

But after a few good attempts at canter transition and some snorts of disapproval over the whole, dusty, boring school scene, I decided to try just a little work out in the great wide world to see how he went since the rain had stopped and the sun was trying to peek out. Thought I could always hop off and lead if Max became wayward and wild.

To my delight, we managed to open the school door with me mounted, Max reining back and re-positioning himself at the slightest hint of pressure from me, then closed the door behind us, and then down the hill and out of the yard to the lane.

The frustration of the school dropped away from Max and off he went quite happily, suddenly remembering what "halt" was about, and happy to trot ahead into the unknown, and doing serpentines up the lane, bending happily to my instructions.

So... I think the Dr Cook's is a keeper. I think it's perhaps not for ridden schooling, or not yet, anyway, and so we will go back to his comfy Pee Wee bit for that. But it may just fit in nicely for our ground work, especially for long-lining, and if today's mini-hack is anything to go by, Max is a very happy boy bitless and roaming the countryside.

We also had his rhythm beads on for this adventure, and I'm kind of loving them. The jingling, especially at trot, is such a happy noise, and the noise doesn't bother Max one little bit.

When I got back to the yard, my YO was bringing a horse in from the field and she clocked the rhythm beads pretty sharpish. Well, they are hard to miss.

"Is Max wearing a necklace?!" she asked.

"Oh, yes! He's all blinged up!"

"Poor Max! All the other horses are going to make fun of you now!"

All said with good humour and I'm happy to take it on the chin. We like to keep 'em guessing with what crazy thing we'll find to do next. How do you know if you don't try though, eh?

Max was reluctant to go out to his field today. It has just been pitching it down with rain in the night, with high winds, so I can understand his hesitation. He balked leaving the comfort of his box, he balked again at the entrance to the field, "No way!" "Max, you must!" and then when I got him in, his two field mates came rushing to meet us.

"In! Take us back in, lady! We'll be good and we won't make a mess. Please?"

Hard to turn one's back on that, but I turned my back regardless, chancing a glance over my shoulder at some distance to see the three stooges frolicking away from the gate, so all was well.

And sigh, life in the country. Drove up the lane and found three calves loose on the road. Turned back to the dairy farm to alert them and met the farmer in his tractor. He said "Ah.We've moved their mums away today, so they're trying to find them."

Anybody who thinks cows are just dumb animals with no feelings or thought has not spent any time watching them. Poor little blighters, just trying to find their mums.

It's a hard world for the little things.