Driven to distraction

It was difficult to decide what to do today; weather a bit iffy, village a bit busy.

After a long grooming session and some playtime in his box, I took another look at the gloomy sky and decided we'd line in the indoor school to save ourselves from getting soaked. Max had already had one soaking overnight, and I'd had to trudge to the field to retrieve his sodden fly mask from the mud.

We lasted about ten minutes in the school before the dust overcame us and I decided we'd risk the rain and trying the paddock. Ideally I would have preferred the long field near the school because it's clear of obstacles and has a great slope, but as the farm next door was having an open day and the field attached to our long field was being used as a public carpark, decided the further away the better.

Well, we gave it a go, but the jumps had been rearranged into a most inconvenient pattern in the paddock. I'm sure it made a great jumping course, but it was a bit too unwieldy for directing Max around them, keep him moving and away from the really long grass that he can still snatch at even with the grass reins on.

He was getting fairly determined to drag me over to it, cleverly using the jumps as evasions to tangle me up so I couldn't stop him, and even from the paddock, there was enough of a view of the farm and its open day to stop Max in his tracks with a look of curiosity at the unfamiliar movement and noise.

I gave it up and sorted out the lines to just lead him back home. Some days it just isn't worth the struggle. Well, actually, if it's a struggle at all, it's not worth it, in my mind. Making it into a battle means you've already lost! Sometimes creative thinking will get you round it, and sometimes it's best to just call it a day and try again tomorrow.

I was a little rueful, as the paddock is overlooked by several houses, and thought anyone who happened to be watching us out of their window would be having a right laugh at me as the lamest horsewoman going. Though they would have heard me laughing, so at least I was lame and amused.

Then I forgot about that and stood with Max watching the sun reflecting off the windscreens of the parked cars in the field, people coming and going, cows where cows normally aren't, squeals of laughter and tractors taking folk for rides. Max was watching it all, ears pricked, eyes bright.

I stood by his side, and scratched his neck. Max rested his muzzle on my shoulder in relaxed companionship and so we stood for some time, just watching the world go by from the paddock.

Maybe not so lame after all, then.