Don't know what got into the boy today. I arrived at the yard and saw his head out over his stable door when he heard me close the driveway gate. I'm accustomed to this, and the welcoming whuffle, but I've now been informed that his anticipation starts well before he peeks out of his box. I'm told that the whuffling starts before my car pulls into the drive, and those on the yard know I'm about to turn into sight because Max starts chattering away in his box just seconds before I appear, like an equine early warning.
I figured he wanted his hay replenished, so picked up an armful on my way to him.
Hmm... empty water buckets and a lot of water on the floor. No matter, I put the hay down, but Max was uninterested and nudged my shoulder then stared at me with his eager "clicker training" focused eyes.
I took his water buckets out, cleaned and refilled them, and tried to bring one back into his box but as I was awkwardly trying to get round him to set it down, he pushed against me at the open door.
"Max! Get back sir! What are you playing at? You don't barge... Hey!"
"Step back, tiny biped, I'm off!"
And so he was. Pushed past me and out into the yard.
I was bemused because this was not usual behaviour. Max is cheeky, but he's polite with it. Hastily grabbed his head collar as I watched his retreating bottom, trying to guess his intent. I figured he'd go for the hay storage, but no, he ignored it. I jogged after him, next anticipating he'd head for the feed storage to try his luck with the pony nuts, but no, he just set off straight ahead with determination towards the back of the yard and fields that are not in the direction of his own field.
It took a bit to overtake and contain him, though he allowed me to put his head collar on with no fuss and then looked at me with an expression I couldn't fathom.
"What is it, beautiful boy? What do you want?"
I walked him on a long lead and he was intent on going forward, but he didn't seem to have any idea of where he wanted to go. So I led him back to a convenient bit of baling twine and tied him up, then fetched his water bucket and plonked it in front of him.
One gulp, two, three... and the bucket almost emptied.
"Thirsty?" I asked.
I got sprinkled with drips as Max nodded his head emphatically.
"More?"
Another dousing as he shook his head.
I fetched a bigger bucket loaded with hay and placed it in front of him, and watched with some satisfaction as he tucked in.
"So what was that all about", I wondered, as I picked out his feet, all lifted and held up in a gentlemanly fashion.
There was someone in the distance blowing on what sounded like a tin whistle, and this seemed to pique Max's interest, but was that the thing he wanted to investigate? Had it been going on for ages while he was stuck in his box unable to work out what was making that confounded noise?
Or was it the beckoning sunshine that called him out? Or a deep thirst?
I'll never know, but while he was tied and content I cleaned his box, removed the spilled water, and replenished his bed and made it fluffy enough for him to have a comfy lie down tomorrow morning when he comes back in.
The fine weather is a tonic for us all, I guess. A welcome respite after a dreary winter. There still isn't much new grass in Max's field, so I know it wasn't the call of a lush field that called to him, but there's something about the sunshine, and this brief period where we can enjoy the warmth without the pesky insects.
I've already noticed that yard duties are suddenly getting done more quickly and seemingly with less effort. Go figure.
Maybe Max was just eager to enjoy being a horse with the sun on his bum. Can't say I blame him for that!
“His name is Max, and he's a Norwegian Fjord X Arab. He’ll be four in June. I have about a month to see if I can make it work and make him mine. Have to see if he chooses me too, and whether I'll do him justice.” (1st May, 2006)
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- maczona
- 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?
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