Frosted ponio

The sun was shining yesterday and the night time temperatures were not expected to drop to below 6C, so for the first time this year, Max ventured forth rugless. He's so itchy with his moulting coat, and he's only been wearing a rain sheet anyway, so it seemed pointless to tuck him into that when no rain was forecast.

I regretted my decision briefly this morning when the cats woke me up at ten past six and I saw frost on the ground. Still he survived happily and there was evidence of a few good scratching sessions and a roll or two when I groomed him this morning. Still no sign of rain for a few days, so he remains bare in his field for now.

Today we had an adventure. The Ent walked, and Max and I followed along some barely familiar paths to some downright strange ones. Max was definitely out of his comfort zone, and as we'd decided to travel a big circle, taking Max through our village, stopping at our house for a bit of lawn noshing, I dismounted and joined the Ent on foot.

Bringing Max back to our village meant bringing him to the fields he grew up in with his mother. It also meant taking him past her, since she still lives in the same fields. I was anxious about how Max would react, and not wishing to transmit my anxiety to him and therefore create a problem, I kept my distance and the Ent kept the reins.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Max walked past his mum quietly enough, even when she trotted over and hung her face over the fence to watch us pass. Then she gave a little whuffle and I saw the expression on Max's face change. He didn't answer but he balked at moving on. We encouraged him forward and made it to our house, through the gate, down the driveway and into the backyard. Head down, happy grazing pone.

We stayed for about ten minutes, moved Max to the front garden where the cats could look upon him in wonder from the safety of indoors, then back along the village road towards home (Max's home).

Max's mum called out as we walked away, and he answered. A lot and lustily. His dear ol' mum kept calling until we couldn't hear her any more.

Max relaxed when we finally left our village, climbed a big hill and hurrah! arrived at a well known bridleway. He lost the wild look in his eyes, and snorted and nudged happily again. I hopped back on board and we sauntered home for a long drink, a well deserved pear and a cool sponge bath.

I'm still pondering today's adventure. Max definitely loses his marbles a little when pointed down strange paths, but that is just lack of experience. It is also me anticipating Max losing his marbles, which helps him lose them. The more unfamiliar paths we travel, the easier it will get for him. For both of us.

Did Max recognise our village, the fields, his dam? I think so. Perhaps not in the way we would define "recognise" but being there certainly caused a change in him, and listening to his mum calling resulted in not just answering calls, but several turns to try and go back towards her.

This also poses the question of whether Max's mum recognised him. Again, I think so. She sees horses go by her field every day and I've never heard her call out at all, let alone several times over, to any of them before.

Whether Max attempting to turn back was actually to get a better look at his mum, or he was so confused by the change in the landscape that he thought that way was home is open for debate.

And yet with all that going on, he remained settled enough to graze at the house, he accepted direction, he stayed with us albeit with an arched neck and tail held aloft.

He did his mum proud today. Maybe that's what she was telling him when she called.