Max Schoolhouse Rocks!

Remember Schoolhouse Rock? Anyone? No? Just me then.

I do remember, and today, Max was introduced to "Number 8".

It all happened because the Grammar Rock song about "Interjections" (which I still know off by heart) was going through my head, so I went and looked them up on YouTube, and they're all there. "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your adverbs here" and "I'm just a bill, yes, I'm only a bill and I'm sitting here on Capitol Hill" and oh my goodness, "Figure 8"! How could I have forgotten about that one? I loved it, the gentle, slightly dreamy song with the equally dreamy and funny cartoon.

"Think of eight, as two times four, think of four, as half of eight... If you skate, it would be great, if you could make a figure eight; that's a circle that turns round upon itself..."

So I was singing that to Max today, as we did figure eights in the paddock. The slow cadence of the song helped us keep our rhythm and I sometimes stopped singing and just whistled the tune, while Max's ears worked overtime, pricking ahead to look where he was going, and flicking back to listen to me.

It took my mind off my troubles and put me in the moment with my Max, and he responded beautifully, dancing slowly to the song, and bending elegantly around the curves. Well it felt elegant to me - I'm sure it wasn't that elegant to watch!

The whistling is interesting. I grew up with a daddy who was always whistling tunes, and when he was home I could tell where he was from the sound of whistling. It wasn't a habit I expected to pick up, and I'm nowhere near as good as my dad, but I know now that I whistle too, as does my brother, as does my sister.

Interesting at the yard though, because the neds have become accustomed to my whistling as I go about my duties, and I see them come forward in their boxes with pricked ears as I whistle past them - well, rarely past them, I always have time to stop and offer a wither scratch and a kiss on the neck - and breathe deep while I'm at it - horses smell so wonderful!

Now I want to talk about the sweet chestnut mare who slipped away from my care and protection today. I hope if enough people spare a thought for her, she might end up in safe hands.

There are so many horses we want to save, and we can't save them all. But this girl, I just loved her. She had a bad start, that was obvious, and had learned to be mistrustful of the humans. But she so wanted to trust. Even when she was unsure, scared and acting out, her big, mobile ears were pricked forward, looking for understanding and telling the world she wasn't bad.

She went back to the dealer today. She had been bought to be brought on, "produced" and sold on at a profit, but she proved to be tricky and more of a "project horse" who needs a lot of time, patience and understanding.

I could not bear let her go this morning. We had a long chat, a carrot and some liquorice and a big cuddle. If there is anything witchy in me at all, if there is any justice in the universe, then this little mare is wrapped up warm in protection and love, and she will find a happy home with somebody who is happy to take on a long term project.

But when the time came for her to leave, I got on Max and got off the yard. My last look back over my shoulder showed me her looking back at me with her big donkey ears pricked as she called to me.

I am truly gutted and can only hope she finds a safe road. Dear little thing. She deserves a safe road. They all do. I hope she'll find her way to a loyal heart, gentle voice and soft hand.

Sometimes, I wish I had never looked.

Today, I sang "Figure 8", and Max was elegant through his bends, and a beautiful chestnut mare with big fuzzy ears and a kind eye slipped through my fingers into the unknown, and she took a little piece of my heart with her.