So slow we were in danger of going backward.
Plus the bridleway had been cut back so there were some menacing branches on the ground looking all snaky so they had to be snorted at.
Then one sideways leap of terror at dried mud on the side of the road in the shape of a tractor tyre tread. Max assured me, though, that this is a clever ruse and is actually the footprint of a pony eating beastie of fierce reputation that leaves only the forelock behind!
Still, my best boy and I had a womble in the sunshine this morning and that was pretty nice.
Yes'm's is a good Max!
About Me
- 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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