Beetroot is back on the menu!

Apparently, I have to peel it first to make it acceptable. Tough skin, delicate Max, well why should he nom through the tough outer skin when it is the work of mere moments and purple stained fingers for me to do it for him?

My neighbour, with the garden that puts us to shame, delivered another harvest of beetroot, so I took a small one to Max, carefully peeled, to see if I could tempt him.

"Look Max! Beetroot."

"Pah. Too hard."

"No, it's all ready for you. Have a go."

"If you insist..."

Moments later, Max had a purple frothy mouth, and I had a purple frothy stained shirt.

Went to him with every intent of taking him out for a bit of something in the sunshine, but we ended up doing nothing much.

Big grooming session, a bit of messing around. It was enough. We played, we enjoyed, we were just me and Max, doing what we do best; being mates.

Max doesn't have a job. I hear often that a horse has a job to do, but that's not Max. His only "job" is being Max, being a horse, and that is enough to delight me.

Yes, I enjoy riding, and yes, I love the ground work, but I also love just hanging out and laughing with him, and today was one of those days. Soaking up the sun and mooching about together, playing and nuzzling.

Lovely. After a hard week of much heartache and worry about things beyond my control and apart from Max and me, we spent our time in the best possible way.

I heart my pone.