Max politely requests...

"Kindly take your feet out of the stirrups and step down from the pony!"

Max and I spent a very brief time in the school today. Weather was too unpleasant to go for a hack, and we've been lunging and long lining this week, so I thought a little work on ridden transitions might make a nice change.

Max begged to disagree.

We started off all right, but something didn't feel quite right. Max kept stopping without being asked, or anything being said at all (he will sometimes stop if I say "Good lad!" because he associates that with receiving a treat). Then we had a bit of head tossing, nose poking, and my requests for trot were met with a few steps and then an intractable halt, ears slightly back. He'd move on again when asked, but stop almost immediately.

I decided that perhaps the saddle was too far back and causing some discomfort so I dismounted, adjusted, and got back up again.

We had another go, but no Max wasn't having it and he still didn't feel right. So I checked again, no sign or lameness or soreness, no heat in feet, moved perfectly well with me on the ground.

Back on board for one last try. We set off at a half hearted trot and I fell into a rhythm but soon Max ground to a halt. I urged him on and lifted myself out of the saddle to see if it was my balance, and Max circled in to the centre of the school and continued down the centre line as if he'd been directed to. I turned him trying to get back to the track, but he took himself back down the centre line instead.

I grimaced as I felt a twinge in my shoulder.

"What's up, Max?"

"Baggage! Get off, please."

"Max! How rude."

"Ow! Not comfy. Off."

"But Max..."

"Off, off, off!"

The twinge continued in my shoulder as Max stood stock still, looking calm and good humoured, but unyielding.

Yes, my left shoulder hurt because I pulled it some time at the weekend. The pain runs from the back of my left shoulder to the front and along both sides of my neck and along the collarbone, following the musculature there. It hurts to shift gears when I'm driving, or to engage the emergency brake when parking up.

As I rubbed my neck and tried to loosen the tension with slow head turns, I realised that this was Max's point. My injury was twisting me, unbalancing me, and who would feel that better than Max? He realised what the trouble was long before I did.

"You're right, young sir; that's enough for today."

"Ya think? Sort yourself out, eh?"

I should be grateful, really. At least he gave me a time to make the right decision rather than shooting me out the side door!