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.