Maxicle

Frozen Britain, frozen pony, frozen me. There is not much else to say. The unseasonal weather has put a halt to all adventures, and made yard work, which is already pretty challenging, labourious beyond a joke.

The photo accompanying this entry was taken on Christmas Day, as our first dump of snow was melting away under the frosty sunshine. We thought it was all over...

We're in our second week of snow, followed by slight thaw, followed by freezing over night, followed by ice layered on snow, followed by more snow, and so it goes.

Conditions are treacherous, under foot, under tyre and under hoof. I won't even attempt to take Max to the indoor school because it means navigating a wide expanse of ice covered cement, and I don't like our chances. I've already seen Max do the "Bambi on ice" homage and don't want us in a crumpled heap of limbs on the cold ground. Nobody is riding out because it's just too risky. At best, too slippery, at worst, the snow covers the uneven ground so we cannot see where there are dips to swallow up a misplaced foreleg.

So Max continues with his routine of living out at night with his mate. They tussle and frolic to keep warm, which has resulted in a trashed rug for Max. It still keeps him warm, but it's a bit shredded. Not sure I can fix it so will wait for the summer sales to invest in another.

I check and re-check to ensure that he's not feeling chilled, and he isn't. He's getting plenty of forage in his box and in his field (we're putting hay down to supplement the meager pickings of grass under frozen, crusty snow).

To pass the time during our visits, I groom him, seeking out any hurts or swellings that need attention, give him a good scratch to relieve him from his enforced time rugged and we practice his clicker moves to make sure he hasn't forgotten "back", "over" and "head down".

He hasn't forgotten, and many times performs with nothing but me pointing to indicate what I'm after with no voice command to back up my request.

Clever boy! Always willing for a bit of clicker. Say what you like about clicker training and "circus tricks", I am convinced that this is the very thing, with groundwork, that will get Max and I out of the difficulty we're in right now, so I will persevere. And he likes it. Bonus.

Determined boy, too. If I go too long without asking for anything, he runs through the gamut of his "tricks" to see if he can coax another pony nut from my fingers.

Nose offered for kiss.

"No Max, I didn't ask. No click treat."

Nose offered more persistently.

"Uh uh. We're closed."

Front foot lifted and hovering, expectant, eager eyes...

"Still no. Stop it, now. We're done. Eat your hay."

Snort. Other foot up, met by silence and hands behind my back.

Extravagent head shake for YES

"No."

YES YES YES YES. Nose.

Laughter.

"Ah ha! I've got her now! Once she's laughing, the prize is mine!"

Nose, snort, lip wibble, nod. Pause. Nose, head shake, reverse, hoof up. Pause.

"Oh, Max! All right then, give us a kiss," I tap my chin, my pony gives me a snog, and finally gets his click pony nut then protests as he gets clutched in a giggly hug.

"Mad pony!"

"Crazy lady. Get off!"