Isolation

Dreary day.

I am and I feel isolated. I may be playing it up too much in my head, but I do know my limitations.

Max is ace, that's a fact. Brilliant temperament, sweet boy, sensible with it.

There's nothing wrong with his general handling, his manners on the ground are exemplary. He's respectful of my space and he's kind. It's just this new found strength of his that is doing me in.

He's always been allowed to have an opinion, so that's not a problem, but I can't contain him or control him if he gets the red mist, and that scares me. Sure, we've always worked it out so far and of course, even in the great outdoors, he regains his senses quickly and listens to me... even trotted over to me the last time he got away from me with the chainsaw gang putting the fear into him.

So why worry? Because it's so potentially dangerous for both of us. It only takes a second for it all to go horribly wrong. That's true anyway, of course, I could be the perfect rider and still come a cropper, but why ask for trouble when I'm not the perfect rider and Max is... umm... can't even say unpredictable, really, but we are not controlled enough together.

So yes, we need help with the next stage of our schooling. I need guidance and Max needs enough confidence in me to listen when I tell him that I have something important to say.

Am I never going to get on unless I leave my yard? I wonder that. Don't like the thought of leaving because it's an ideal situation for me so close to home and the hacking is great (if we could hack, that is). Great facilities, nice, supportive people and all the experience I need to feel that Max is in safe hands. But then there's the big "BUT".

I really need a like minded soul whose values and training complement my own. I don't want force, I don't want violence or shouting. I want Max to learn through patience, gentleness and joy, not fear or being overpowered, with his own wonderful personality and character swallowed up under my will. That will never work for me, and I don't want it in Max's life.

To me, the beauty will be so much more beautiful when Max generously offers, rather than feels that he has no choice. That's what I want, and nothing less. I may get results faster if I cow him and teach him that I am "boss", but that result would leave a bitter taste. Max willing and free is what I want. That will be poetry, and if takes me longer to coax a sonnet out of him, so be it. Worth the wait, worth the patience, worth my frustration and thinking it through. When Max finally dances... I want him to dance because he wants to, not because I've forced it upon him.

What a gift that will be, when we can do that together.

Losing my nerve?

I feel like I'm on the edge of losing my nerve with Max, and I don't want to go there. All those lovely afternoons where I could take him out for long walks in hand, I wouldn't dream of doing that now. I can't control him if he gets his freak on. He's gotten away from me out and about twice now, and my heart has been in my mouth both times, even though I've managed to collect him and get us safely back home. Perhaps I need to remind myself that I have been able to do that. Must be doing something right if I can coax a half ton creature full of fear, will to survive at all costs and bountiful muscle to follow puny me and remain calm. Calm(ish).

I feel like I'm that sad sack on the yard that everybody feels sorry for. The one that everybody feels sorry for and also feels slightly contemptuous of.

"Oh her. Poor girl. She's over-horsed."

I've not got hacking partners, and I guess that's OK in a way, because Max in company is a giddy force to be reckoned with. It's partly my schedule doesn't fit in with others, but I'm also very particular about the ground and the pace and I don't want to inflict that on anybody else. Max and I hacking are a groove chill, no doubt about it.

So we muddle along just the two of us, but it isn't easy and it isn't fun or relaxed.

Well, sometimes it is, but I can't really ever relax into it because I'm always looking out for the Big Bad and wondering how I'll handle it.

That's not even totally true. If I feel Max is relaxed, then I am relaxed too, and I have seen us through some stuff by keeping my head screwed on, no question. But at the moment, I'm feeling a bit lost and like I don't want to put us in difficult situations because I'm not sure that I'll cope.

Max wasn't anywhere near as schooled as I thought he was when I bought him, and although I've given him a good life, I haven't brought him on in a meaningful way (to my mind) because I can't. I haven't the skill or experience and I feel I'm letting him down.

That's emotive talk and says a lot more about me than it does Max. He's a horse. He's perfectly happy in his routine, his comfort of the box, hay and water on tap and a juicy breakfast thrown in. He's equally happy out in his field with The Boss grazing and playing. It would never occur to Max to ponder... "Well, she's a nice enough lady, but for goodness sake, I can't trust her on a hack and she never takes me anywhere interesting to gallop along a beach or try a X-country course. She really isn't bringing me on at all! All my friends know how to do shoulder in and I can't do it! She is SO lame!"

To be honest, I guess I've done pretty well to bring him on as far as I have to date, but I'm at stalemate now, and Max is mature and strong beyond my capabilities.

I shouldn't spin out on this, but I do.

Yesterday we tried again, on the lunge rather than the lines, and Max was right back at it.

Off he went, evading on the left rein, and dragged me away to the far end of the school. Not so much of a drag as me following with slight pressure to try and bring him back to stand. Didn't want to jab his mouth, but did want to try and figure out what his behaviour was about.

I said nothing, I collected him, I sorted him out and clucked him on. I just wanted him to stay calm while I tried to figure out what the problem was.

Off he went, no problem, but now we were working in the far end of the school rather than the near end of the school by the door.

He went like a dream. A sluggish dream, dragging his arse around, not proper trot work, but no evasion, no hauling me off, no trying to put a jump between me and him.

Could it really be that simple?

I did chase after him and growl, and got a few turns of proper working trot, but...?

I was thinking bit problem, teeth problem, some other kind of big painful problem...

Just doesn't like the near end of the school with the door? Could that be it?

Lunged for ten minutes each rein, and then rode for another 20 minutes at trot, taking him all over the school, changing diagonal, trying a few canters (failing) and bringing him to a walk, stand, rein back... "click" dismount and we were done.

Liquorice as his reward, girth loosened, stirrups run up. The End.

In the court of the Wayward Prince

That's where I live right now, the Prince's Fool, my jester's hat firmly in place.

Don't know what's gotten into the boy, but we hit a bit of a block, and have been bickering and frustrated with each other. Change of seasons? Maybe. Howling winds? Most probably a factor.

Couldn't get Max into the school until 11.00 and then waited for the 11.00 lesson to finish which cut my time with Max short.

Then Max was an absolute pratt on the right rein and kept cutting out on me and taking himself round a jump to evade my instructions.

We tried a few times, he kept cutting out, then he eventually exploded and I dropped the lines while he hooned about full tilt.

Watched for a bit, keen to see he wasn't getting tangled up in his lines, but whenever I approached he'd take off again.

"Right, you bugger," I thought. "You want to run like a loon? Then run you shall!"

So I kept him going. When he stopped for a breather, I waved him on with my hands and my lunge whip (nowhere near him, of course.

"Go on then, run, if that's what you want to do! GO!"

"I will! You are not the boss of me. I am horse. I am the elements. I cannot be contained!"

"Whatever. Run! Go on!"

He'd give a buck in my general direction and then take off at speed, skid to a stop and run some more.

Pretty awesome to watch, truth be told. My heart was in my mouth because he was doing the wild thing, and I was all about his safety as he kicked out against the school wall and turned so tight in a cloud of dust, but when I could shuffle those thoughts aside... Amazing Max, all crazy, hairy mane and flying hooves really going for it. Utterly breathtaking. Beautiful.

"Go on, sir! Do it again, you like running so much! Run!"

And off he'd go, looking quite rebellious and peeved.

"You can't catch me!, Nyah!"

"Don't want to catch you, hooligan. Run like the hounds of Lucifer are at your heels. Go on! Show me what you got! Bring it!"

This we did for a good long time until Max finally stopped and faced me, puffed.

His sides heaved and his nostrils flared red. He stood still and watched me.

"Done now, are we?" I asked.

"A bit tired, mum. Kiss?"

He offered his nose. Retrieved him with no words and no eye contact, but a little pat on his shoulder to say we were OK.

"Right sir, as I was saying before you interrupted..."

Tried again. Better. Fine on left rein, a turn at trot to right again, two good circuits and I quit while we were ahead.

Sigh.

"Good boy, Max!"

"Still?"

"Always."

Today we tried again, on the lunge rather than the lines, and he was right back at it.

Off he went, evading on the right rein, and dragged me away to the far end of the school. Not so much of a drag as me following with slight pressure to try and bring him back to stand. Didn't want to jab his mouth, but did want to try and figure out what his behaviour was about.

I said nothing, I collected him, I sorted him out and clucked him on.

"It's OK Max, you can't do anything wrong. We're just going to figure this out together, OK? What's troubling you? Tell me."

Off he went, no problem, but now we were working in the far end of the school rather than the near end of the school by the door.

He went like a dream. A sluggish dream, I'll grant you, but no evasion, no dragging me off, no trying to put a jump between me and him.

Could it really be that simple?

I was thinking bit problem, teeth problem, some other kind of big problem... Just doesn't like the end of the school with the door? Could that be it?

Lunged for ten minutes each rein, and then rode for another 20 minutes at trot, taking him all over the school, changing diagonal, trying a few canters (failing) (whatever!) and bringing him to a walk, stand, rein back... "click" dismount and we were done.

Liquorice as his reward, girth loosened, stirrups run up. The End.

Need to think about this one.

The weather has not been our friend for a good couple of weeks now. He may be bored with the indoor school - I know I am - but he seems to have something to say about being lined or lunged in the top half of the school, which doesn't bother him in the bottom half of the school or ridden.

That will take a bit of pondering to figure out.

The wind and the horse

We had a fairly dramatic and frustrating session today. I brought a change of clothes and went straight to the yard from the office to buy myself some time. Max greedily eyed the bagel with homous and coleslaw I'd made for my lunch.

"Gimme!"

I didn't give him any though and told him, "Everything is not for you!"

This did not go over well, though it was amusing to watch him opening his mouth and chewing, while I chewed, intent on getting a bit of what I had.

As we got ready, it started to rain quite hard, but I took him into the indoor school for long lining anyway and figured we'd be OK.

We did ten minutes of warm up, which was fine, and then were just going in to trot work when a flipping gale storm hit us. The heavens opened and rain hit the tin roof of the school like thousands of hammers,and the wind howled.

Felt and sounded like the school was going to come down around our ears!

Max got his freaking out face and stature on. He was on high alert and ready to explode.

I tried to work him through it for a bit, but even I was feeling edgy by the noise and tumult, so called it quits, took everything off him in case to prepare for an explosion.

He had a roll.

I was happy he felt safe enough to roll, but it was very short and he remained electric, really twitchy and stuck close by me with crazy eyes.

I had to grit my teeth to even take him back to his box because he was so coiled and the weather was so freakish.

Took advantage of a little lull in the chaos.Had a word with him:

"OK young sir, I know this is scary, but just stick with me. We'll be OK. Trust."

Got him back and settled in his box and then went back to retrieve his gear from the school.

Half an hour later, no rain, blue sky, but still the crazy wind.

I feel a bit lame for cutting things short, but I weighed it all up and decided I didn't want to put us in that position. Max gets so strong when he's freaked out, and I don't want the indoor school to be a scary place for him, nor do I want him to get an idea of me not being trustworthy or... um "authoritative" isn't the word I want, but I don't want him to sense me helpless because it won't do his confidence any good. So I think I handled the situation in the best way I could.

Feels like a bit of a cop-out frankly, but I will push those thoughts out of my head. Another horse, maybe I could have pushed through. but Max, no. I know he's a lovely, kind boy, but the feeling of him when he gets like that is a bit sobering. He's powerful beyond any strength I have, so I have to rely on my wits to keep him focused and calm because my puny arms sure as heck won't do the trick to hold him and keep him out of danger if he gets away from me and into mischief with anxiety.

Makes me think of my dad when I was a kid spinning out with panic.

"Deep breath in! Hold it and THINK!"

I'm not scared of Max, but I know I haven't the skill (yet?) to work through it when the red mist descends over sense.

Yeah, of course it makes me feel crap, but I do know my limitations and I don't want issues forming with the school being a bad place, so I did what I did. Judgment call in the moment.

Driving into a rainbow

Today was a day of mixed emotions, great sadness tempered with grief over the loss of Sammie which is still surprising in its intensity.

Today, I went to meet the New Girl. She is not a replacement. No horse can ever replace Sammie, and it's not fair on her, let alone disrespectful of Sammie, to think so. She is her own horse, solid, sturdy, young and full of promise.

I felt great excitement as I drove the distance between my yard and hers. Giddy at the thought of a new horse to love and welcome of my "family" of horses, those that aren't mine, but are in my life because they belong to my friends.

It was pouring rain, torrential. I stopped to get petrol and then continued of my journey. Two things happened.

My CD player in my little truck holds six CDs. As I drove away from the petrol station, the CD player clicked onto a new CD, one that I have been skipping over for the past few weeks. It was "my Sammie music" that began to play.

Yes, there is a back story here. At the beginning of September, I was watching "Beatles night" on BBC2. Documentaries, new footage, clips from "Help", "Hard Day's Night" and "Yellow Submarine". It was a brilliant night of television. Had me grinning and singing along, laughing at the wit of the Fab Four in interviews and remembering how much I loved The Beatles.

The next morning, I dug through my CDs and could only find "Magical Mystery Tour", so I took that to my car, swapped out "My Chemical Romance" which I had rather overplayed, and was delighted to hear a number of old favourites that I'd forgotten about.

Very shortly after that, we had the first news of Sammie going lame. Over the next few weeks, I had quite a few drives over to visit Sammie and offer support to the singular horse himself, and his human, who is as dear to me as she was to Sammie.

The journey between my house and Sammie's yard was perfectly times by the Magical Mystery CD. As I arrived at the yard, it was to the end of "All You Need is Love", the last song on the CD. Although, strictly speaking, I always played "I am the Walrus" twice because it's so good I always give it a repeat.

Again, on the last trip, the evening when I did that final drive, knowing Sammie was no longer with us, I listened again, and "All You Need is Love" had me in tears as I arrived and pulled into my friend's driveway, knowing there was little I could do or say to comfort her, but my presence, I hoped, would be enough.

I drove home that night in silence, and although I did not remove the CD from my car, I didn't allow it to play in the intervening time.

But here I was driving, "Roll up for the Magical Mystery Tour, step right this way..." and I felt the tears prickle.

The other thing that happened as the music started, is that the rain stopped. The sun came out, and as I drove on, a brilliant rainbow appeared directly in front of me.

Oh, it's a natural phenomenon, no question. And the music was incidental, it just happened to be next CD up for play, and I just happened not to click past it as I had been doing.

But something about the two together, the rainbow and my Sammie music, lifted my heart and made me hopeful. The future with the New Girl bodes very good indeed. Very right. As it should be. With Sammie's approval.

Man, did that orange monkey stamp his mark on this world! And through him, because of him, the New Girl will thrive and carry on the story.

Sammie will never completely be "was" in my head, but always "is" because he is so entwined in the life that goes on. He is so much a part of the going forward. He was so keenly interested in other horses, and he had a sense of himself that was commanding.

He is the firm foundation that the New Girl sets her sturdy hooves upon, and he is the rock that my friend can lean upon when she's not sure sure what to do with an open youngster.

We can't see him, and I hate that we can't see him, but he is not gone from us.

Nothing is forgotten, and nothing is left behind as we go forward.

Should I be worried

Why? I was still in the middle of my dance of joy over being an auntie (new horse to love on the horizon) and now I am in the stillness of, "Uh oh... what's that?"

Yesterday I was giving Max a scritch in his armpits because that's one of his favourite scritchy spots. Found a little something in the folds at the top of his left foreleg.

Thought it was caked mud. Wasn't.

Thought it was a scab. Wasn't.

Little lump, smooth, Max not bothered by me poking at it, but we were in the indoor school when I discovered it and the light was not good so I couldn't get a good look.

Tied him up outside in the sunlight (by the way, that's what it's called right? When the big yellow disc appears in the sky and makes things feel a bit warm? I think I remember that's called sunlight).

Bless him, I crouched down to have a look, and Max, seeing what I was doing, assumed the position (bow for a carrot stretch) and that caused a bit of confusion.

"No Max, just stand up, please, sir."

"Oi! Where's my carrot! Shall I stamp? I think I will."

Eventually got fellow yard bird over to have a look and feel as I held his leg up while she had a rummage.

She at least confirmed I'm not insane, there is something there, and it feels like it's under the skin. Grey little lump. She didn't know what it was though.

Sarcoid? Could it be?

And even if it is a teensy sarcoid, which it might not be, that's no reason for me to freak out, is it?

He's all grey wrinkly skin at the top of his forelegs anyway, so the fact that this lump appears to be grey is not conclusive and it's really small.

There was a suggestion that it might be a tick bite. Possible, though funny place for a tick bite.

Horsey friend to the rescue! A friend popped by at the yard to have a look and feel and tell me whether I should be worried.

Verdict is watch and wait for now.

Thought it was one little lump when I first felt yesterday, but it's actually a cluster of three or so.

We decided they don't feel like ticks. Could be any number of things really, very small and in an area that won't bother him particularly, no chance of his girth rubbing there to irritate.

I'm instructed to have a feel every few days or so and make sure they're not getting bigger or spreading. But if they do either, vet.

Might resolve on their own, who knows?

He sure doesn't mind them being prodded, though, and he let my friend use his leg to hoik herself back to standing with no complaint.

She complimented me on his manners, actually. Stepped back from his door politely when she entered, and after a few moments of being curious of new person "Oi! Who you? Let me get to the measure of you", we was perfectly well behaved while she hung all over him.

Should I be worried? Probably not. Alert is what I will be instead.

He's a gent, my Max (except when he isn't [image] )

Maximus Puddle Duck

I had Max out for a mini hack. Not much time when I knew I had to catch a train to London for a mystery date, but the weather was fine so off we went. Had a bit of a problem with a HUGE puddle, but we got past it. Through it, more correctly.

One almighty nap up along the ridge that took a while to work out - we turned, and turned, and turned some more - and I felt a bit more forceful than I like. My "forceful" is not very forceful in the great scheme of things. Got him going in the end with a thwack of the whip on my boot and a, "For Heaven's Sake, Max, get on with you! Enough with the foolishness!" but felt really crap about it.

I don't like seeing Max's head come up like he thinks I'm going to hit him. Really hate forcing him forward when he's in a tangle (over who knows what and always wonder if he sees something, knows something that I don't), but I know sometimes I'm not firm enough, too, so I do need to persevere.

Always feel like I have to apologise afterwards though!

When we met the big puddle again on our way home though, was not forceful at all and felt much happier. Just sat there and let him work it out. I knew we were in the perect situation to do just that. Home on the horizon, he knew where he was, no worries, all the time in the world to work it out.

A big stand and stare. I could feel it all going on. He wanted to turn and run from the puddle, but doing that would take him away from home. His natural curiosity also works in my favour on this stuff.

More Stand and stare. All rigid. A little relax, a little snaky neck, a few steps forward, head lowered.

"By God What is this thing? What new devilry is this, eh? I cannot fathom it!"

A step back. Stand and stare, all rigid...

Then forward again, head low. A stamp, a splash, and finally through!

"Good boy, Max!"

This next will make you laugh or roll your eyes. Or both.

Here be the Words of Wisdom:

Got back to the yard and YO asked, "How was he?" as she always does.

Said he was brilliant, but the bridleways are treacherous, which they are. Really slippy, like ice, and going down the hill (I considered getting off, but more on that later) I could see all the sliding hoofprints of horses who had lost their footing before us.

"Well," YO said, "Of course Max will find it more difficult because he's not shod. He's got no grip, has he?"

BWAH HA HA HA HA!

Shoeless horse has no grip in mud! Oh please! My sides are aching!

I was loosening Max's girth as she said it, and just tucked my head into his shoulder because I was laughing and knew nothing I could say would disabuse her of that, frankly, ridiculous notion!

I came away from the girth adjusting with a straight face and said, "Oh, he was like a mountain goat! Really sure footed!"

Thing is, he was just that. He's a notorious stumble bum, my Max, looking everywhere but where he's going, so trips over every root in the ground and big rocks. Pleas of "Max! Max Pay attention!" fall on deaf ears.

It was so slippy I considered, and very nearly did dismount to lead him down the hill, but he seemed so set on picking his own way!

So I slipped the reins (kept contact but let him get his head down low because he was keen to look where he was putting his feet) took my weight away from his fronts and let him find his way down the slippy hill.

He was brilliant! Absolutely trustworthy, carefully picking his path, hesitating, then finding purchase and carrying on.

What a good Max! I was so delighted with him, and he was pretty delighted with himself, too.

Some days I'm just so proud of him! Reminds me of what I always thought confidence and horsemanship should be. It is not just about being a confident rider. For me the emphasis is on mutual confidence. It's knowing when to quell my own doubts and trust Max to get us through the tricky stuff, just like he should trust me enough to go forward through big puddles when I say it's safe.

When it counts, that mutual confidence we work so hard to build between us is what could get us out of a very bad situation. That is confidence and partnership.

I love my boy and the learning about the big bad world we do together. Even though he is barefoot and therefore totally unable to find his grip in mud. I may invest in four suction cups fitted to keep us safe.

So easy when you get it right!

Perhaps I should be touching wood in the hope that I don't jinx anything, but Max and I have hit one of those grooves where it all seems to be coming together effortlessly.

It's not been effortless at all, for either of us. We've been back-stepping and covering old ground. I've been observing, reading, asking questions of knowledgeable horsey colleagues and making adjustments.

I have had Max's Pee Wee bit adjusted to the re-training setting after a few sessions of evasion and even getting his tongue over the bit once (which was alarming!). He was going well on the new setting, but just recently has objected in a way that has made me wonder if he needs the equine dentist. There's evasion, and then there's distress and I am never happy to see Max distressed.

We moved back to his Dr Cook's bitless for long-lining so I could see if that was better. I have a few niggles with the Dr Cook's; the noseband sits very low and interferes with the cyst on Max's nose. I've adjusted it upwards to avoid that, which probably makes it less effective, but effective enough for us to have a very good lining session on Sunday.

Oh, there was attitude all right, at first, and I was trying to work him through it with a watchful eye. We got into a muddle because I was holding the long lunge whip and it just feels like too much stuff in my hands, so I discarded it, concentrated on the position of my hands, keeping my wrists supple and elastic, and driving him on with stomps, insistent growls and getting up close and personal.

In the midst of all this flapping about and energy, I also managed to get my body in the right position and suddenly it was all change! Max went forward beautifully, picking up his feet, powering through from his hinds, and light in my hands up front, so that just the slightest squeeze from my fingers was met with directional change.

Then I'd lose it, and he'd slow and look a bit lost, then I'd get it back and off he'd power again. I can't describe the trot really. It's not exactly floaty (I don't know if my hairy pony does "floaty") but something akin to it.

We tried again today, back in his Pee Wee bit, but that was adjusted back to the normal setting to see how he'd get on.

We warmed up for 10 minutes, getting the feel of it, me, eyes like a hawk watching his mouth for any signs of discomfort, but after mouthing a little, he settled and seemed happy enough.

Off we went on our trot round me. I am not still and unmoving in the centre, I goe with him, try to stay slightly behind so as not to block him, and close enough to drive him on with my own energy and the occasional "Stop slouching, sir! Energy! Let's go! Scoot, scoot, scoot!"

Clever boy, he has learned to respond to "Scoot!"

Again, I dropped the whip to keep my hands free and sensitive, again I found the right position and off he went like an absolute star, really using his body well and holding himself together with such ease and grace.

He'll never be elegant, my Max, but he's certainly elegant enough for me.

We didn't have to stop and collect ourselves when my 10 minute timer on the left rein rang, just slowed to walk, turned him on the right rein and off we went again.

Just ten minutes warming up and ten minutes good working trot on each rein and then finishing with a flourish of canter on each rein just to see if we could.

Short session, but meaningful and very worthwhile. I'd much rather have him work well for a short time and end on an up than keep after him just for the sake of totting up the minutes.

Finally I walked him back towards the door and his head collar. Asked for stand and got it while I collected his long lines, wrapped them up and clipped them to his roller, then finally bridle off and head collar on. He didn't move an inch.

I offered him a gobful of pony nuts.

"Max, that was brilliant. How splendid are you?"

He got that look I love, the eager eye, delighted chomping and a small sigh as he puffed at the end of his exertion and concentration.

"I did good?"

"Couldn't ask for better, my boy. You were totally 'wow'!"

A pause while he chomped, then lowered head into my arm.

"You did good, too. So clear. I really understood what you were asking this time. Ask like that more often, ok?"

That's the thing with horses. They are brilliant teachers. When it's not going to plant, you do well to look to yourself before blaming it on your ned. The ease of these past few sessions has been more about me getting it right so that Max could get it right too, not the other way around. He is such a forgiving teacher.

Now I just want to get better. How do I do that? Practice! Kind hands with tweaks of pressure, good body language and body position equals clarity for Max. He's always generous and tries so hard, but when I am clear, we go to a whole new level.

Life is all about communication, and there's no better guide to the fine points of communicating than an expressive horse who is allowed to speak his mind. Let him speak, and you have a mentor and a partner. Force his silence, and you have a servant. I know which I prefer.