Attitude + Speed = Wahey!

Well, the boy can sure shift himself around the school, and no mistake.

We had a weekend of attempting to lunge and long-line, with the Ent as my able helper.

Tried the long field again, and Max lined around the field with The Ent in control. Ent called it "ploughing the field" which was a good description. Back and forth, turn, up the hill, turn, down the hill in straight lines and so on. Max was attentive, co-operative and pretty much foot perfect.

Then it came to bringing him in on a circle and Max turned our quaint English field into a wild west rodeo. He was a proper bronco, leaping into the air and then kicking out with his hinds, head down. I'd never seen him do anything like it before, and as I watched, I wondered if he was in pain somewhere and this was how he was showing me.

My gut said "no" though. I check him regularly for swelling, heat, unsoundness. I didn't think it was pain, but both the Ent and I were baffled at such a display of capricious rebellion. I also wondered if Max was objecting to pressure, but I could see the Ent's hands were soft, and considering how contrary he has been with me the past few days, when I know my hands are soft, I discounted that, also.

We took him into the indoor school and had a good session in there to finish off, the Ent holding the line, and me chasing after Max with voice commands and directional aids.

The next day, we tried again in the jumping paddock, which has no slope. I started off with lining, and then on the lunge on the left rein; Max was heedful and polite. The Ent joined us, did some more lining and then lunged on the right rein, and again, no bother. We then lined him up the lane a bit, with me in the lead, and apart for Max grabbing an opportunity to nap or eat under the less experienced eye of the Ent on the lines, we had a fairly trouble free time of it.

Not dissing the Ent here. Max and I work together a lot. I can anticipate what he's going to do well before he does it, and can position myself to thwart him. Took me ages of watchfulness to be able to do that, though. Was always baffled by other horse people who could spot things quickly when watching their horse, or watchin a rider, but now, finally, I can do it, too. It's just exposure and determination, I guess.

Explained to the Ent that you always have to be a few seconds ahead of Max, watch him, take in what's ahead, and anticipate his reaction. Be on his reaction before he's reacted is what it boils down to.

Having an eye for that really does take time and practice. Not surprising that the Ent didn't catch every nuance, and also not surprising that Max saw when he was in with a chance and thought, "Game on!"

I could just about hear Max saying, "D'oh! I'm in dutch with the lady!" when I stepped in and put him right.

"Are you taking the p***, Mr Max?"

"La! It's a good game, mum!"

"Yes, but the Ent is always kind to you, isn't he? So be kind and behave yourself."

"But... ok, then."

Today it was back to the school for Max and me - safest place for us at the moment with Max all wayward and me handicapped by my back.

I walked him in with his headcollar and took the lunge whip, bridle and a line with me.

Once in the school I removed the head collar and was preparing for the change over. Max stood like a sleepy donkey, I gave the "Stand" command, and turned my back on him to hang up his head collar. Turned back to see him pawing the ground and bending his knees, preparing to roll.

"No rolling, Max!" I barked.

Down he continued to go.

"I said NO! We're working, young man!" I flicked the whip in his general direction, Max heaved himself back to stand and with a snort of surprise and then took off at speed away from me.

"Huh..." I thought. "Doesn't look like he's in pain at all, does it?"

I walked into the centre of the school with the long whip, and decided to take advantage of his energy. I encouraged him on with a flick, and then praised when he put himself onto the track and continued to hoon around like the clappers.

He came to a sliding stop next to me, and blinked, with his happy Max eyes. Full of mischief, but no malice.

"Get on, then, my boy!" I encouraged, and gave a little snap of the whip in the air.

He bounded off again, and when I clucked him on, he flattened out and went full pelt down the long end of the school.

I moved to meet him, raised my hand and he turned, and charged off in the other direction. At the far end of the school, when he thought he was out of my reach, he pawed and buckled his knees again for a roll.

"Ah! I'll just have a nice scratch... what the...?"

Hadn't expected me to run up had he?

"No sir! Up! Up! We're working!"

Max heaved himself up again and took off at speed, and I followed at a slower pace, voice calm, encouraging him on.

What a beautiful sight! What a reassuring sight, too. Unfettered, Max moved at tremendous speed, mane flowing, perfect balance, head proud, eye on me and relaxed.

He continued on like that for some time, changing directions on cue, like poetry in motion. More luck than judgment, I feel, but it inspired me to get a lot better at loose schooling because this was such a joy to watch, and seemed such a joy for Max too.

The very fact that he was paying attention to me at all when he clearly didn't have to was very encouraging and reminded me that we're a partnership and he is willing and does try for me when he has an inkling of understanding what I'm asking of him.

He came to another sliding stop in front of me, nostrils flaring with the exertion.

We did a little clicker training then to calm things down a little, and then he hung his head like a gent while I put the bridle on and we got down to some work on the lunge.

I cut the lunge session short because it's boring for Max, and he'd been so spectacular and so polite in his power and grace, that I didn't want to push us into a bad "no fun" place.

We worked on voice transitions, up from stand, walk, trot to canter, and back down again, on both reins. He was an absolute star.

A little clicker to finish off, a jackpot including maple sugar treat, and then straight out to his field.

I do so love watching him from the ground, so in a way, this bad back of mine is a blessing in disguise. I never need a reason to do groundwork with Max, but I do sometimes feel under pressure to ride when I'd just as soon be on the ground. Horses are for riding, doncha know?

My inability to ride just now takes that pressure off and allows me to venture down new paths with Max, as we did today.

I admit, it wasn't totally in control, but it wasn't totally out of control either, and we definitely have something to build on here.

Max and me having fun together and not doing boring ol' schooling stuff. But hey, presto, it still is schooling stuff for both of us, just wrapped up in a pleasing package!

You just never know where you're going to find inspiration, and today, Max and I found it in the dusty ol' school as we larked about like the friends we are.

Fjord X Arab X a teensy bit of Canadian, eh?

I'm not sure if it happened by osmosis, but Max has a little bit of Canadian in him, and by that I don't mean he's taken a chunk out of me.

A colleague at my office job had a Canadian student living with her for a little while, and presented me earlier this week with maple sugar shaped in little maple leaves. Better yet, the address on the box was RR No. 2 in Powassan, Ontario, so I know precisely where these sweeties came from and can picture the area in my mind's eye.

Six little maple leaf treasures.I told her they would last me a year - they are so sweet and mapley that I can only eat a little bit at a time. I don't think I'll get the chance for even a nibble now, though.

Today, as they were in my car, I snapped off a corner and offered it to Max, to see what he thought. It's always fun to watch Max taste something new. I was expecting him to appreciate the sweetness, if nothing else.

He went mad for it! One little taste, big eyes, nodding head to show his approval, and immediately looking for more. More was not forthcoming, and he started nudging me, on the arm, on the shoulder, even in the belly, looking hopeful and just a little desperate.

Now, this kind of behaviour is not acceptable and I told him so, but was amazed by how persistent he was.

"More! More I say! What is this delicious stuff and why haven't I had it before?"

It took a while to settle him down and get him to concentrate.

I am still troubled by my back and Max has had this week off because I'm just too fragile to deal with his rambunctious behaviour. I can't ride because it hurts, but even long lining and lunging are difficult at the moment, especially if Max decides to give me some attitude. He has clocked that he can easily evade me now, and I don't really want him getting into that habit so erring on the side of caution, I don't give him the opportunity.

Instead, we've gone back to clicker training. It's a creative way to get his mind back on me and the release of a pony nut rather than the hooligan behaviour he can get up to. It's been going well and Max is concentrating again, adding a few new "tricks" to his bag.

They are never just "tricks" of course, there's always a reason for what I train him to do with the clicker that can be moved on to other in hand and ridden work, but they do start off as simple little moves that we can build on later.

There are a few sniffy comments on the yard that Max "should be a circus pony". There are also a few delighted comments about what Max will do with a hand signal from me or a word, so that redresses the balance.

Case in point, Max had his six monthly chiro appointment this past Tuesday, and chiropracter's hip was playing up while she was working. She was standing next to Max, and raised her leg up and moved it out in rotation from the hip to loosen it. Max watched, his head bowed towards her, then lifted his leg and hovered it, too!

She was surprised and delighted and I explained why he was doing it, and she asked, "Will he do the other one?" and tried lifting her other leg, and of course Max followed her and mirrored her movement. Clever boy!

Just goes to show how observant and attentive horses are!

It was more clicker training today for Mr Max, and to his delight, when we had done about 20 minutes of concentrated work, it was time to close the session and give him his jackpot, which today was the remainder of the pony nuts, about a handful, and in the middle of it, the rest of his maple leaf sugar candy.

Same reaction, same delight, same hopeful sniffing and nudging. He only has five more goes with the maple sugar and then we shall have none.

Nice to know a little bit of the Great White North has rubbed off on a Hampshire pony. I'll have to keep an eye on him or come winter, he'll be practicing slapshots in his field, with field mate set up as goalie.

With a rebel yell...

... he was gone, gone, gone!

OK, I've taken some liberty with the lyrics, but "gone" is more appropriate than "more". Max, as it happens, wanted less.

Oh, it all started out well enough. Decided to long line in the Long Field to try and get round Max's sudden onset of attitude.

It was wonderful! Around the field we went, changing direction, changing pace, trotting up hills and walking beautifully and energetically down. We did that for about half an hour and he didn't put one hoof wrong. Decided to finish off with some trot work on a large circle, which meant dealing with the slope of the field to engage those hinds and build the muscles to help his stifle lock.

"OK, Max, walk on sir."

A commotion, a head toss, and then a retreating bottom, dragging the lines behind him after I'd had to let them go. Off to the far corner of the field he went and got his head down for a munch.

I rolled my eyes at myself for not being alert enough to stop him, and walked slowly after him to collect and try again. I got just about close enough to grab a line and he was off again, just out of reach. He got a few good marks for keeping his head up when I barked at him for trying to eat, and on second attempt, he let me catch him.

Back we walked to try again. Same thing.

I walked more purposefully to the far end of the field to collect him, we had words, and then back we went again, with me deciding we'd try on one line instead of two.

"I don't think so," said Max, and with a buck and a fart in my general direction, off he went a third time. Only this time I was ready and a sharp pull and release on his Dually with a firm "Stand Max!" brought him to heel.

"Right, I think the indoor school, don't you?"

"No, no, no! Not the school! Anything but the school!"

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and we did a bit of in-hand training on our way to the school.

"Have you forgotten your manners, Max?"

"Snort."

So we lunged his sorry arse around for half an hour. It made me late for the beginning of my shift, but no matter. It was important to re-establish some boundaries, so we kept on until I was satisfied Max was listening and giving me some of the good stuff.

Back to the yard with Max puffing and looking a teensy bit contrite, it was time for a hose down and a shampoo and set with Lavender Wash. No nonsense with dancing round the hose either; he stood stock still because the slightest side step was met with a firm request for good behaviour.

Then he got a detention. No going out to his field to play with his mate and eat grass. No, back to his box to have a think about what he'd done instead.

If I could have given him 100 lines to write on his slate I would have:

"I will not cop attitude at my mum."

I talked to YO about it when she came on the yard because I'm still pretty surprised at this sudden display of rambunctious behaviour. Max has always been cheeky, but we had well mannered down pat. It's not just a quaint notion of having a polite horse, it's important for safety. You can't have a half ton of muscle and force barging about the place with no concept of where the line is drawn. You don't have to achieve the line with force or violence, but you do need to have that line of command writ large to keep safe. Especially on a hack, you have to be prepared for anything, and have enough control and trust established so that you can manoeuvre both yourself and your trusty steed out of tricky or dangerous situations, no matter what is going on around you.

Let alone on the yard, where running amok is to be discouraged at all costs.

YO was sympathetic and said that she thinks it's partly to do with the onset of maturity. He's stopped growing, he's strong and feeling fit, with the rain the grass is a bit richer, and yes, it's one of those stages where he's testing the boundaries because he's feeling his power.

Has he worked out that he's stronger than me and taking advantage? Has he risen to meet my new found firmness and vigour with some of his own? Hard to say, but I don't think the horse's mind works like that. They don't plot to overthrow, it's not in their nature. But if it's down to herd dynamics, well... is Max trying to be boss of me?

YO did tell me though that she's noticed a change this past couple of weeks when she fetches him in from the field in the mornings, too. He has always been easy, waiting to be brought in for his breakfast, polite and well behaved. But just lately, it's all bucks and hooning around the field, skidding to a stop for his head collar, then being a bit silly and joggy on the way in, nipping at his field mate and generally Up To No Good.

She assures me that it's a phase, but yes, important that I stay right on top of it and up my game to meet his new found confidence and opinions. Like with children, she offered, you think you've got it all sorted and all the basics are in place, then suddenly, there's this new back-chat and you have to deal with it and re-establish the ground rules of basic good behaviour and co-operation.

Oh, Max will always have opinions, and I don't mind that; I will listen to them. But he needs to listen to, and respect mine as well.

End of shift and Max still in his box watching me with the eager expression I know so well.

"Right, young man. Have you thought about what you did?"

Little head nod.

"Are you sorry for being a spanner?"

Vigorous head nod.

"OK, give us a kiss then!"

Nose poked forward, eyes soft and merry.

I planted one on his soft muzzle and put on his head collar.

Off we walked to the field on a loose lead rope, Max keeping step with me, turning with me to shut the gate, waiting for me to set off again, pausing when I paused before we crossed the lane, just like we've always done, and just like he should.

Then into his field for carrot stretches and release.

"Love ya heaps, Mr Max."

"Back atcha, lady."

Sigh. Tomorrow is another day, and perhaps another battle, who knows? But we'll win in the end, because Max is basically a very decent, kind hearted soul, and so am I, so we've got everything going for us!

Step back

It does no good to become so wrapped up and enthusiastic about taking great leaps forward that you forget that such advances usually still include some retreats as well.

I was reminded last week by a friend, that the steps back that Max and I were taking in our education were much fewer and farther between, but he had a surprise backslide yesterday.

Maybe it was the wind, maybe it was the approaching storm -- not just excuses, real possibilities, our equine friends are a lot more sensitive than we are -- but could I get Max up the lane just moments after leaving the yard? No I bloomin' well couldn't.

Do we go up this same lane every time we leave the yard, in hand, me in saddle, lone hacks, group hacks, with Ent on bike, with Ent on foot... every time, do we go up that lane? Yep, we surely do.

Has it changed? Nope, same old lane far as I can see.

Could I convince Max?

"I shall, I shall not be moved! I shall, I shall not be MOOOOVED!"

"Get on!"

"Help! Help! I'm being oppressed."

Cars passing, slowing, giving us room, Max spinning round to try and head for home, me barely staying on as back gives out.

"For Heaven's Sake, Max! Get up the %£%**&^lane you pillock!"

"Fear! Fire! Foe! I won't go!"

Eventually I had to dismount because I couldn't take the pain any more, and Max was just getting more frenzied in his attempts to retreat. I took him forward in hand though, also with insistence, but even with me on the ground he wasn't happy.

Up to the farmhouse and back, baffled by his stubborn refusal, we turned and even on the way home he was obviously unhappy about something, all prancey, uptight and wary.

We went into the indoor school to trying riding in there, but I only made two circuits round before I had to get off, trying not to squeal with the pain I felt in my back in trot.

So we had another lunge session instead, which didn't thrill me because we'd only just cracked that one and I would have preferred to move on to something else and come back to it later rather than rinse and repeat. However, must needs and all that.

Max was OK. Not brilliant, but not a total backslide either. Just something not right about yesterday, and who knows what, but I hope it was just a blip on the chart.

Hey, we all have bad days, so why shouldn't horses have them, too?

Playing statues?

Kept Max in this afternoon while I did the yard work so I could have a little time to give him some attention when we were done, and also keep him back from the grass a little longer. With the rain we've had lately, despite the meagre pickings in his pony paddock, both Max and his field mate have blossomed. Not worryingly so, but enough for me to exercise caution.

Max was hanging his head out of the door trying to get my attention when a pigeon flew in and landed on his head, right between his ears.

Max's face was a picture!

"Eh? What the...?"

The pigeon flew away, and Max shook his head and blew a hearty snort, then looked at me with a bewildered gaze.

"Oh, Max! We could put you on that empty plinth in Trafalgar Square!"

We've had a brilliant couple of sessions over the last couple of days and seem to have had another break through.

I had a day off from the office job in Friday, so Max and I went on a lone hack in perfect weather.

We were out on our own for about two hours!

We set off from the yard with me not sure where we'd go or for how long, and this seemed to work well for us. I made decisions based on how Max was feeling, rather than having a plan of what we "must" do.

Max was feeling good, so we did "the big block", up the bridleway, over the hill, down the other side, along a straight path, back up and over. As we were coming to the end of it, I wondered if rather than turning left for home, I could ask Max to go straight on over the lane and do "the triangle", that would lead us back to the same lane a little further along. He crossed the lane without hesitation, so off we went.

When we finished the triangle, I thought maybe rather than turning right for home, we'd cross over the lane again and do the smaller block. Off we went. We had trots, a wee canter, lots of great walking, one spook, one teensy nap, but basically all good and all decisions in the moment based on how willing Max was to go on.

We met a couple of other hackers while we were out as well, and no fuss from Max, he was happy to walk on and away from them. In fact with one of the horses from our yard, Max was itching to get away and get on with it!

"Bored of chat now, let's go lady!"

Then yesterday, hurrah! We had canter, canter, canter!

It is a bit lame to be so thrilled over something just about every horse person takes for granted, but Max and I broke through a barrier!

I was too stiff and sore in my back to contemplate riding, so I took Max into the school to lunge. It was overcast so the school wasn't blistering hot, and we'd had the sprinklers on, so there was no dust. I've got a timer on my mobile, so set it for ten minutes on each rein for trotting, then when timer rings, we work on transitions up and down a bit on voice, then to stand and change over reins. He was just in his Dually.

After 20 minutes of trot, I was determined to try five minutes on each rein of trying to get him into sustained canter. This has always eluded us... I either get a few steps, or one or two circles around but he never just keeps going indefinitely until I tell him not to, but just collapses back into trot and walk.

But yesterday, we did it!

Oh I had to get quite forceful, chasing after him and growling, coming in close and really upping my energy to make him up his. He was annoyed at first, and on very first attempt gave me a snort and a buck and then galloped off so that I had to let go of the line. But he stopped, I gathered him up and we tried again.

Second attempt, as soon as he got into canter I was very enthusiastic and kept after him, really chasing him on and that was it. On and on he went. Still threw me the occasional buck, but I just laughed at those and told him to cut the attitude and get on. Kept up the enthusiasm, kept up the energy and was surprised when my timer rang to tell me we'd been cantering on the left rein for five minutes!

Right rein, same thing. A bit easier to get him going without attitude because he knew what I was asking. What I noticed about right rein, though, is that his right stifle did cause him some problems and that right hind juddered quite a few times. Probably working on a circle didn't help, though was BIG circle because I was going round with him rather than standing in the centre making him go round me.

So I cut him a little bit of slack on this rein, and when he needed to come back to trot I let him. When I could feel he was ready to move up again, we did.

He's got a chiro appointment on Tuesday week, so I'll mention that to her when she does him. I do think it's always going to be a bit of a problem for him and I'll just have to stay aware of it. His left stifle hardly ever gives out on him now, but the right has always been the more pronounced problem.

It was a proper work out though. When we finished his wee nostrils were blowing, we were both in a light sweat and Max had a slightly surprised, "How the hell did that happen?" look in his eyes.

Oh, but we had a fuss, me telling him how brilliant he is, and he had a sweaty roll, then a cool hosing down and a cinnamon apple feast to finish off.

Very satisfying couple of days, and we've taken another step forward in our confidence and communication.

A moment of peace in a frantic day

Yard shift this morning and I was determined to whizz through it so I would have time for a hack with Max on our own before I had to run off to the afternoon job.

We've an extra horse on the yard now, so I knew I had a challenge ahead of me. One more to muck out and oh shucks, he can't go to his field straight away because his companion horse is being ridden and we can't leave him out there alone.

So I flew through the boxes, really putting my back into it (and my back is telling me off for that now).

Finished the mucking out, hauled big buckets of water all over the yard, tidied the muck heap, skipped out, hayed up and "Hey there Max. Fancy a hack?"

"No, not so much. Eating, sleeping, hanging about. I'm good."

"Come on Max! Just you and me! Please?"

"Oh, if I must."

After yesterday's storm and big boy buck, I craved a sedate ramble, just me and my boy, and that's exactly what I got.

I was a little worried, because when the Ent and I took Max out in hand on Sunday, he started calling as soon as we left the yard, and I feared that he'd lost his confidence again.

Ent pointed out sensibly that he probably just knew it was time for his field, so wondered why we were taking him somewhere else.

"Hey! Grass time! Help! They're taking me away from grass time!"

"Oh no!" from another field. "Prance about, act like a jerk! They'll surely find you quite tedious and release you back into the wild."

No go. We took him out for a nice long walk and that was that.

But I did want to test his confidence levels a litte, and see how we were on our own, ridden. I had planned something very short and sweet, but once we got going... well, I had the timer ticking in my head, "You have 59 minutes to return to your station..." but I just wanted to go on.

Max was relaxed and walking slowly, with caution, but we were out and it was lovely.

We took a longer route than I had intended, and I thought ahead constantly re-calculating the time left to me... if I don't open the post, I'll save time. If I don't wash my hair, I'll have more time. Sure, it can last until tonight if I put it in a pony tail and wrap a scarf round my head. If I wear trousers, I won't have to shave my legs..."

Like that. I negotiated minutes away so I could spend some time with Max enjoying the cool breeze and sunshine.

On we went, up hill, along the ridge, a trot here, a canter there and arrived back at the yard just before noon.

I had an hour before I needed to be pristine in the office, and it got gobbled up by settling Max back in his box, putting his tack away with a lick and a promise (at least his bit got cleaned), carrot stretches and a feast of apples and pears dusted with cinnamon, then skipping out, checking top yard horses for hay, taking another horse out to the field, sponging Max's sweaty belly and arm pits, and then I was off again, full tilt.

But ah! That bit in the middle of the madness; the peaceful spot that was the sound of Max's footfalls and the feel of his belly swaying, and me singing Kookaburra to chase the spooky things away.. Well, that makes full tilt worth it.

I drove away from the yard with my head full of what I had to do next, and also thinking of summer time in Toronto, visiting Centre Island. They had paddle boats in the shape of swans. You paid your money, you had a set amount of time to paddle your swan about, and then you got called back in.

"Swan Number 8. Your ride is over. Please return to the dock."

Ha! My ride is never over.

Riders on the storm

Oh yes we did!

Another hack, today with friend and old retired hunter. We hesitated over the dark clouds, but agreed that the weather forecast insisted nothing more than showers, and if we got caught we could take refuge or turn back for home.

It rained while we groomed and tacked up, but we decided to forge ahead and the rain stopped as we mounted up.

The Hunter is a good partner for Max. Older, steadier and much taller, Max respects him and feels at ease. He takes the lead for some of the time (steals the lead, in fact) but when he's had enough, there is no question but that the Hunter will take over without hesitation.

As we left the yard, Max indicated that he did not wish to be leader, so Hunter strode out with confidence, and Max jogged along happily behind, trying to keep up. We climbed to the top of our familiar ridge and debated which way to go, commenting that soon harvest would start and we'd once again have all the stubble fields to play in rather than being limited to the same old bridleways that we are restricted to in the summer months.

I turned to look over my shoulder and saw we were being chased by dark clouds and obvious rain. That made the decision for us, straight ahead to the woods, and hope that we got there before the storm hit.

We almost did.

As we jogged along the path, Max happily snatching at all the long grass that his grass reins could not stop him from snatching, the wind picked up and nipped at our heels, as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

"We're not going to make it..."

The sky darkened, a gust blew, and the full force of the rain hit us. The Hunter picked up his pace and Max followed, putting in a big boy buck of defiance at the whirlwind.

I've sat many of Max's little bucks of glee and protest, but this was a proper buck. I could see his back end come up in my peripheral vision, and was lurched forward but sat it with no trouble.

"Whoo!" I cried out in surprise (maybe I sounded like a cowboy? Doubtful!).

"Max! Be sensible!" I then admonished. "This is not a rodeo."

My friend turned to see if I was all right, having heard my cry but not seen what caused it, and seeing that Max was still moving forward and I was laughing, we carried on through a gap in a hedge, and then into the welcoming shelter of the trees.

There we stood for about 20 minutes while the rain lashed down. We talked about gooseberries, Russell Brand, Cornwall, The Jamaica Inn, Jamaica, home made fly spray, brownies, and how strong Max is now that he's fit and mature.

"He's quite a handful, isn't he?" my friend commented.

That he is, strong necked and opinionated, but kind and sane. Usually sane.

The ride home after the storm was uneventful, with wet ground, bright sunshine and that wonderful just rained smell. Max purposefully took the lead, we managed to get past the silage monster without climbing the bank at the side of the road, and then Max had a sponge bath to get the mud off his belly and legs back at the yard.

We started with a buck, and ended with a dignified bow for a carrot in Max's field. As I walked away, the rain fell again.

Mad Max Goes Mental!

Well, it's not all cheeky mischief, comedy and best behaviour with horses, not even Max. Following is a tale when it all goes unexpectedly, surprisingly wrong.

Have never seen Max like it before, and I hope never to see him like it again.

We went out on a cheery hack with The Gardener and The Cob. Cob is a bit nappy (turns and tries to go home) and doesn't take the lead (backs his big bum into Max and me to shove Max to the front) so Max is leader when it's just we two (four) out on an adventure. Max is generally pretty good about this, too, solid young man that he is. He's a sensible boy anyway, and deals with commotion pretty well. All that ground work and clicker training we spent ages doing, doncha know!

Gardener and I had debated going out because of the heat, but actually yesterday there was a fairly cool breeze and cloud cover, so we decided to just have a nice walk about up to the woods. Famous last words.

We had one spook as we were heading up the edge of a field and a deer jumped out in front of us. Max coiled and launched himself into the wheat field full throttle with The Cob following, but it was a storm in a teacup, easily sorted and Max turned back when asked and continued in the lead. On we went, but he had a different feel to him.

This is often the case after a big surprise and spook. Once it has happened, Max goes into a more alert mode, probably the adrenaline rush, and becomes more likely to spook at less provocation.

We hit the patch of woods we were meaning to enter. Saw some movement on the other side of a hedge, Max got freaked and I was trying to work out if it was cyclists or riders that we couldn't quite see.

Max was trembling and I could see the whites of his eyes. The Cob was not willing to take the lead, so I decided to get on the ground to lead us past the scary bit, and then hop back on. We've done it before with no problems, and when Max is genuinely frightened, I have no qualms about settling him by getting down and leading.

Max kept trying to turn away, but I was insistent (more fool me!) and eventually, on we went, into the wood.

It was a little herdette of young coloured ponies, loose in a field, that caused the scare. I let Max have a good look once we were in the woods, so he could see what they were and that they meant no harm. We've gone past countless fields of loose horses on hacks and in hand, so I wasn't worried.

"There Max. You see? Just other horses. No problem."

They started chattering to him and Max lost the plot! Not scared any more, but completely distracted and excited. He became really forceful, little rears, pulling to get away from me, and eventually he did get away when I couldn't hold him any more. He blundered away from me and ran over to sniff the ponies that were all lined up eager to sniff him back.

This would be fine if it weren't for all the rusty barbed wired curled up everywhere. Disentangled him (not hurt) with a lot of effort managed to get him away from them and back to the path and The Cob. Then Max went nuts. It was like trying to hold on to the Tasmanian Devil. He wanted to go back to them, then they started running along the fence line, and I was thrown about like a bit of kindling.

The Gardener asked if I would have more control on board (chance would be a fine thing!) and I said "I'll end up in A&E back on board, I think!"

She managed to keep Cob contained and still, but didn't dare get off herself to try and help. Don't blame her, it would have been two of us helpless on the ground with horses losing their marbles all over the shop. Would have been carnage!

I got Max out to a clearing that was beyond the ponies' fence line and was getting him to walk on, and he went mental again, trying to get back to them.

Had a moment of thinking "How am I going to get him home? Shall I just leave him here to live wild?"

He managed to stomp on my foot and pull my boot off (thank goodness for his bare feet; I still have my toes) and with tremendous effort, some quiet words, some not so quiet words and a bit of luck, we got him going again, away from them finally, and when I felt him relax enough, I got back on. He was good as gold after that.

Was I scared? Um... yeah, I think I was scared, more for Max doing himself an injury than anything else. Didn't think of what might happen to me while it was all going on, just concentrated on getting Max under control and safe.

I'm turning it over in my mind wondering how I could have handled it better, and I'm really not sure how I could have, other than listening to him when he wanted to turn back in the first place.

He went all Arab stallion on me!

"Feel my power, puny biped! Crush, Crush, Crush! Mwah ha ha!"

The only other times I've seen him even slightly like this was when there was clay pigeon shooting when we were out for a walk in hand, and the Ent was trying to contain him, and when the very low flying helicopter flew over us when I had him in hand. Those two occasions were very short lived though, and he settled really quickly once the danger was gone.

This time, he started out really scared, then went to to really excited and curious. No idea why. It has been suggested that perhaps the ponies were saying something to him that I couldn't understand.

"Oi! Your mum is a wimp and she smells bad! Come over here, petal, and show us what you're made of!"

The only thing that could have helped, looking back on it, is if I had gone out with a head collar and long line as back up. That would have given me some leverage, but I don't generally go out with such a back up plan ready, because Max has never needed it.

We had intended to go home via where the Motorcross is set up in a clearing with all the tape that flaps and freaks him out, and I told The Gardener that I didn't want to go that way because if Max lost it again I had no more strength or energy to contain him.

I know when I did let him go, it was saying, "He won't leave us, he won't go too far", and I know that's true. But you can't help but wonder what damage they can do to themselves when they get glazed over like that, especially with rusty barbed wire everywhere.

Do I ache today? Just a bit. Feel like I've been in the boxing ring, actually and my back and shoulders sure didn't need it!

Will avoid that little bit of wood for the next wee while, I think.

As for Max, he spent some time today with his big ol' head resting in my lap, placidly taking apple bites from my hand and breathing in slow and deep. Maxo Relaxo once more.

Just one of those things that happens with horses sometimes. You can't prepare for moments like that, you just have to hope your horse has enough trust in you to listen and comply. Max did, eventually, and for that I am grateful.