Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Happy as pigs in muck...

We had some of that today.

Must be the kinder weather, but today the sun peeped out, I showed up a litter earlier than normal at the yard, and despite extra dutes, I managed to finish in enough time to get Max primed and out for a wee adventure in the sunshine.

We spent ten minutes in the indoor school working on trotting, turning, bending, and then hey ho, out in to the wild!

The pigs continue their habitat, just off to the side of a main horse path through a big field leading to a stubble field, leading to bridleways.

I hear stories every day of how much fuss and bother it is to get various horses past the pigs, solo or in gangs, but am delghted to say that Max just goes forth.

Oh, he looks at them all right, and he sticks to the far side of the path, but he goes.

The pigs (and tiny cute piglets that Max didn't notice) were all blissed out in the sun, lying side by each in a huddle, like so many towel lying hedonists on a beach.

Max and I trotted by, and then up and around the stubble field. It wasn't so much a trot as a jog, and when we geared down, it wasn't so much a brisk walk as a plod.

I did take a second to consider whether I should push Max on into a tempo more smartish, but meh... he's been getting pushed on a lot these days and there's something to be said for the relaxed plod, the unhurried jog.

I spend so much time rushing, it was a nice change of pace to just relax and be in no hurry with my boy. We watched a hawk out on the prowl, we stopped to consider a few of the ploughed fields around us, and in a busy day, we had a little envelope where Max and I didn't rush, push through, elevate his paces or any of that malarkey.

We plodded and enjoyed, and Max's happy, relaxed snorts told the tale.

It's not all work and pressing on. Sometimes it's just an amble.

There's a lot to be said for ambling!

Back home for banana stretches, a couple of carrots hidden in his lunchtime hay, and Max was a very happy boy, and sent me off to my next job with a whuffle and a promise for our time together tomorrow.

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The diary of a young horse and a not quite so young novice. What happens when you decide to return to riding after years away from it and suddenly find yourself buying a horse, and a very young horse at that? Who teaches who?