Blackberry fool

I took Max out into the paddock again today, to compare and contrast working in the Pee Wee bit against working in the copper snaffle in similar circumstances. There wasn't a lot in it, actually, but any "evasion" from Max was limited and lacking any real determination.

He did get a big ol' case of the jitters when we left the paddock and were trying to shut the gate behind us. He did what I can only describe as a "one step bolt". Really gathered his energy into his haunches and leapt forward. One step. Then he came back to me, listened to me, did as I asked, turned back to the gate while I attempted to close it again, all the while feeling like a coiled spring beneath me. I knew he just wanted to run away from whatever was scaring him, but there was never a moment that he felt unsafe or uncontrollable. In fact, I was so not scared that I was chuckling at him and calling him a silly boy.

That was a good lesson for me.

Decided to go up the lane and here we had an argument, as Max determined really, we'd done enough for the day and should just head back to the yard so I could hand feed him carrot bites. So we turned round and round in circles until Max got bored and acquiesced.

It was going relatively well, until I dropped my stick. Got off to retrieve it, and there being no convenient spot to use as mounting block, and Max still displaying a case of the jitters, decided to carry on on foot and see if I could soothe his equine nerves.

It wasn't easy, he really had the wind up him for some reason but we turned up a bridleway, me coaxing and Max saying "Nuh uh. Too scary. Not doin' it."

He hasn't been so reluctant in a very long time, but I managed to cajole him along and then spotted a blackberry bush.

"Ooh, Max. Blackberries! Do you remember them from last year?"

"No."

"Sure you do! You love them."

"No."

"Try one!"

"No."

"Come on silly. I promise you like them."

"Scary."

"What's scary about them? They're sweet and juicy! Try one."

I stuffed one between his lips and stood back to watch those eyes move from irritation at the assault, to bemusement to delight.

"Oh. I do like them!"

"I know."

"Pick me another!"

"You can pick them yourself, remember?"

And out came the dexterous lips, nibbling through the foliage and finding the prize, passing over the unripe, and plucking the sweet.

"Still scared, monkey boy?"

"Nom, nom, nom..."