Here be monsters!

Max had a new song sung to him today, an old favourite courtesy of Lou Reed: "It's such a perfect day, I'm glad I spent it with you..."

I managed my time well enough today to put in time at the office, get home for lunch and get back to the yard for a hack before the afternoon shift of mucking out began. This will be our new Tuesday routine as the nights begin to draw in. They haven't yet, but clocks will go back soon, and I'd like the routine to be set before they do.

Max was a perfect gent today. We weren't out for ages, but we were out alone, with no walk in hand warm up. Mounted in the yard, and off we went. Beautiful, still day, blue sky, bright sunshine and just a little chill in the air.

Our only moment to pause and consider was when we approached "the sheep field". I guess they're doing silage or something, but there are great, separate mounds, covered in heavy (shiny) polythene held down with masses of old tyres. The sun glints off the plastic, the wind ruffles the plastic, and for all the world, to a cautious but curious pony, it must look like a great sea serpent stranded on land and looking for a tasty meal.

Max paused as the creature glinted at him in the distance.

"What the devil?" he asked.

The pause was short, I urged him on and my distinct lack of alarm seemed to satisfy him that it was safe to proceed and investigate. The serpent was obviously sleeping with a full belly, so we plodded past with barely a snort.

On the way home we stopped to watch the dreaded pigs, which hold no fear for Max now. He insists that the smell of them offends his delicate equine nose, but other than that, he's not bovvered.

It is clipping season now for many of the horses on our yard, and our YO is dutifully spending hours shaving long woolly hair off some of the finer competition horses on our yard. No need for Max now, and I'll reconsider if he starts getting too hot from his work, but I'd prefer to leave him au naturel.

The daily clipping though, despite best efforts to sweep up, leaves little tumbleweeds of horse hair blowing about the yard, and occasionally, a ring of horse hair in the clipping room if we leave it a little while before getting in there with the broom.

It was thus when we returned to the yard, and Max was curious.

"How comes this?" he asked. "Why is the hair not on the Other Horses where it belongs?"

"Oh Max," I explained. "They were too full of mischief. Mischief in the cooler weather causes too much heat, and it's a dangerous time for horses."

"Why?"

"The heat of the mischief builds up and BOOM, they explode, leaving only a circle of hair to tell the tale."

Max was aghast.

"Ponies too?" he wondered.

"Especially ponies," I confirmed. "So you'll want to keep a lid on the mischief, sir."

"Boom?" Max asked, clearly shaken.

"KaBoom!"

This new information was taken in thoughtfully. I've already told him that if a horse eats chocolate his mane will fall out, so there has been no need for me to share chocolate with him since.

"I'll save my mischief for when you're with me, then" Max concluded after his think. "If I go, I'm taking you out with me!"

Oh well. It was worth a shot!

It was a perfect day and I'm glad I spent it with him.