Sometimes doing nothing is everything

I am over the moon with my boy, and me, and us!

I have mentioned I prefer being on the ground with Max rather than riding him, but we're not very good at it yet (not that we're brilliant ridden either, but we'll draw a veil over that)

A friend of mine came over to give Max and fuss and watch us lining last week, and she noted (as I often have) that when his tack is on, whether it's saddle, roller, whatever, Max switches off and gives me the dead eye. He'll go through the motions, and sometimes, especially when there is nobody watching, we click and he's superb, but mostly not.

Today, I took Max into the school with no intentions at all. My point was to just be with him, ask nothing of him, and see what happened. I wanted him to understand that sometimes when we go into the school, it's just to hang out. Sometimes, I will ask nothing of him at all. Sometimes it's just about being in the moment.

I had cleared my desk at work, and decided not to do overtime. I put it out of my mind. I had decided groceries and house chores could wait, I had nothing pressing to do other than hang out with Max. No agenda, nowhere else to go, nothing else to do.

YO had the day off and was not on the yard, so that was another mental block out of the way. No pressure felt from disapproval and incredulity at what I think passes for working with my horse.

I closed the school door behind us and took Max's head collar off. He was already pawing the ground as I did that, so I stepped back and he had a roll. I walked away from him.

There was a lot of mooching about and I left him to it. There was also a lot of just hanging out with me, which was fine.

We were in there for a long time. Sometimes he wanted to do stuff, and we did, and sometimes he got distracted so I let him do his thing.

I sat down on the bench we use as a mounting block, and Max spent a lot of time sniffing my boots (I wore them for mucking out that morning, so I expect they smelled interesting!).

I stood up on the bench to see how Max would like me WAY tall, and he thought that was great for scratching his ears, but then he walked away. Eventually he came back and planted himself in the perfect position to hop on his back.

I hadn't been planning to do that, he had nothing on at all, and I didn't have a hat, and I know it wasn't immensely sensible, but in that moment, getting on his back felt like exactly the right thing to do. So I did.

He took me, with a purposeful walk, to the centre of the school, then turned his head to look at me. I sat still and looked back. He was totally relaxed.

He had an itch on his side, so I reached down and helped him, then gave him scritchers on his best itchy spots, and felt like it was a really good thing to be doing - can't really explain why, but it was all so calm and so together, him totally accepting me being up there - well, he always does because he's kind and generous, but this felt different - and me up there with no purpose in mind other than sitting on his back and being with him.

I sat back up, nudged his elbow with my toe then whispered "Spanish".

I have tried and tried to get Max to do his Spanish stamp from the saddle and he never does it. He looks confused or resolute with a Bartleby the Scrivener "I would prefer not to" vibe.

He'll do it if I'm on the ground, with somebody else in the saddle even, but never with just me up there on my own.

But today,with the merest whisper and the slightest nudge, he gathered himself, looking perfectly majestic. I felt all those muscles tweak, felt him prepare and gather himself, sort his balance like it was all in slow motion, and then up came that leg, high and then hovering there, like it was the most natural thing in the world for us to be together with nothing, but claiming our rights to everything.

It felt... amazing! Absolutely bloody amazing. What came from him, the willingness, the... oh! the grace and the power and the gift. It was incredible.

I'm sure it was nothing to watch, but to feel... I wish I could find the word.

Max and me, we're just a hairy, stubborn, comedy pony and his hapless know-nothing human. But today, in that moment, we were Amazing.

I slid off his back and looked him in the eye. The moment held for a few more seconds as he looked back at me, an ancient and wise thing.

Then my big grin broke the magic: "Max, you are BRILLIANT!"

Max shrugged off tall, elegant stallion cloak and became smiley, hairy Fjord pony again; nodded his head enthusiastically and accepted his pony nut prize as we became just us again.

What a pony though! And what a full heart, what a smile still on my face.

Horses are just... just... need a new word that has never been uttered before, that is sacred, musical and awesome just for horses.

Poor Max is unemployed!

Was talking to YO yesterday, can’t even remember about what, and she said, categorically and not for the first time “A horse is not a pet. Horses are far too expensive to be pets. A horse needs a job, and if they don’t have one, then there is no use for them.”

Did I protest? No, because there’s no point challenging her on this stuff.

One, I don’t understand how she can be so firm and unrelenting with her opinions on just about everything. How do you learn stuff if you never listen to another point of view? And even with all her experience and knowledge – which granted, is a lot and I do rate a lot of it very highly indeed – just because I don’t have the same experience and knowledge doesn’t mean she can’t learn something even from lowly me. We can learn stuff from anybody and everybody, sometimes in unexpected and marvellous ways. It pays huge dividends to be open to that.

Two, why can’t Max be a pet? Surely it’s my call on the expense, and if he’s healthy and happy, then who is it hurting?

Of course Max is a pet! He’s got no job other than being a happy horse and being with me.

YO has been away for two weeks on hols and it has been bliss because Max and I have just been doing lots of “play” at liberty work. We’re not very good at it, but I love it best of all, him buck nekkid and so eager and attentive. He does like to stick really close to me though, which can get a bit much with the flailing hooves of canter. I’m going to get better at this though, because we both enjoy it so much.

So since he’s unemployed and all, do you think I could send him off to Winchester to apply for Job Seeker’s allowance? The extra dosh would come in handy… Except he would probably offer to take his pay in polos and carrots.

That's not a bolt, it's just bogging off!

... sniffed my YO.

Sure as hell felt like a bolt to me!

We were along a high ridge overlooking the downs. Deep drop down to one side, bush and barbed wire to the other, and ahead, WAY ahead, three choices: a steep hill down to the left, a stile and barbed wire fence to a field straight ahead, and an even steeper hill that we have trouble negotiating when we're sedate to the right. All tracks rutted by tractors with rabbit holes either side. The track on the right was the way home.

Don't know what set Max off. He was being tormented by flies, properly going mental with them and we were brisk trotting to get away from them, then a sudden noise from the bushes behind us, a brief pause where everything hung still for just a moment while Max collected himself and I had time to wonder what next, then KERBLOOEY! Like a racer responding to the starter’s gun, Max exploded forth!

Max was flat out and not listening. Yeah, he spooks, he scoots forward a couple of steps at speed, and then he listens and stops. Not this time, not scooting, not listening; he felt completely different and not connected to me at all. Blind panic.

It felt like it was happening forever. I guess it was actually maybe 20 to 30 seconds. Maybe less than that. Probably less than that, to be honest, but we were shifting it some, going so fast while time stood still in my head.

All I can remember thinking is “FFS don't fall off because you'll break!”

Looking back now, I'm pretty chuffed that despite little voice in my head saying "ohmygodohmygodohmygod", big voice in my head stayed calm, looking at the path ahead, calculating risk, thinking my way out of it.

Once I realised I wasn't going to fall unless something really untoward happened (like that's not a possibility chimed in alarmed little voice) it was just a matter of getting Max back to me before he had a chance to make the three way choice, which frankly, left to him, was going to be a bad decision for us no matter which way he chose.

I ended up stretched along the length of his neck, my mouth next to his ear, my hands grasping the reins right by the rings of his bit.

"No, Max! Whoa!" (thank God for clicker training "whoa" in ground and ridden work) and big squeeze on the reins, lifting the pressure up.

OK, that was crap. Not elegant, no finesse, but it did the trick. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Max came to a quivering halt just as we reached the cross roads of the three choices, but he was alight, crackling and pinging, like an explosion ready to happen.

Took me about a nano second to decide that we didn't now want to negotiate the steep hill home with me in saddle, so dismounted and that sent him into loopy again, just the shift of weight. I told him to get hold of himself very firmly, and we walked down the hill - pranced sideways down the hill with rolling eyes and red, blowing, flared nostrils and straining to burst away.

Then I got back up and rode him home.

But that's not a bolt, it's just bogging off. Whatever, I can still feel everything jangling under my skin.

Tomorrow morning, weather permitting, I'll take a break from the yard before the flies get bad, and we'll re-trace our route to prove to both of us we can.

The good things about Mr Max's wild ride? It's happened now, and we did OK. I stayed calm, and Max came back to me, even in proper, full on Arab mist, even in hand down that stupid hill, while I watched his worried eyes and strong neck bunching up against my hand, a firm "No, you will not lose your shit, you will listen to me now because I WILL get us home safe, sir" worked.

It worked because of all the silly, needless ground work we've put in over the past few months. I'm convinced of that.

Bloody hell, what a ride! And what a good Max, even if he is a nut job sometimes.