Max in the hands of another

My friend the Baker borrowed Max to hack out with her daughter because her own boy is wearing a poultice and can't be ridden. Very handy for a Saturday, as I can't do anything with Max myself. He's carrying a little more weight than I would like right now due to the recent flush of new grass, so I was very pleased to offer him up; to be honest, it was doing me a favour.

So it was that Max went out on a big adventure without me, all over the countryside.

He was so confused through the tacking up, and when the Baker tried to lead him out he just stuck his big head into me. I told him it would be OK, and he knows auntie well as she works on the yard too. Then blow me down, once we got stirrup lengths settled, he was off all sprightly following the Baker's daughter and her trusty steed (a former field mate of Max's too, so they know each other well).

He didn't put a foot wrong.

Both riders were full of smiles when they got back and gushing about how enthusiastic Max is about everything. This is very true. He's like that character off The Fast Show that thinks everything is BRILLIANT!

But I really only get that from him when he has another horse with him. He relaxes and enjoys, then, has a good look around with a sense of wonder and an equal sense of fun. He's better on his own now than he used to be, but rarely just lets go and enjoys, and some days is actively prepared to be spooked and never really settle.

What the Baker said afterwards was gratifying too: "Blimey, he's SO strong. I haven't ridden a horse this strong in years!" She figured she'd be aching the next day from it, and she's not a hard handy rider. Yeah, tell me about it. Holding Max together and back is no easy task. He looks like a ploddy pony, but there is nothing ploddy about him. Nor much pony about him either - he feels like a horse when you ride him.

The Baker complimented his sitting trot ("You could just sit that for hours, it's so comfy"), said his canter was lovely and smooth(this I already know) and that when you're riding him, you can definitely feel he's half Arab because he's got some fizz to him. Tell me about it!

I'm so glad they had a good time and he behaved. Would love it if I could occasionally get out with someone else, but it just doesn't work with my schedule.

He came back in a total sweat and needed to be hosed down. Unsurprising because he's so furry in his winter coat and the weather is still so mild.

So a good experience for Max to have a different rider, a fortunate replacement for the Baker, and a wonderful help to me, to have Max exercised for free, by a friend who's riding I trust, and who's care for Max is second only to my own.

Testing the electric fence

Stupid day today. I had plans all right, but they came to not much.

Got to the office early thinking I'd be out again early with lots of time for Max... But no! A reminder of a meeting put paid to all that, and even the free sandwiches did not brighten my day, nor shorten the proceedings.

So it was that all the things I had planned for today got pushed back, and at half one I was at the local tack shop buying hay and fly spray, having just run out of my home made concoction, and also having stopped off at a health food shop for citronella to make more. But there was no citronella to be found, and despite it being October Max is being eaten alive by midges, so I forked out crazy money for a fly spray that I hope will keep well until next spring when the blasted things wake up again.

Then on to town for a supermarket sweep and a visit to the chemist, all the while knowing I'd put Max down on the whiteboard at the yard to be kept in, but he would have been shoved out of his box and tied up with nowt, waiting for me.

Big bellow of "hello! help!" when I arrived, and I appeased him with a windfalll apple from my friend at the office, picked up special for Max.

Gave him a groom, a cuddle, some fly spray, and then out he went.

YO asked if Max's little grey field mate had gone out wearing his fly mask yesterday. Yes, I confirmed, he definitely had.

Well, it was very windy last night, and the Boss (the other field mate) lost his fly mask, and it was found in a far away field. Perhaps little grey's had blown away, too.

I said I would have another look around when I took Max to the field, and as I had a pocketful of black liquorice, the three amigos followed and helped me in my search.

Was I dressed for it? No! I was a picture in a turquoise linen skirt, turquoise fitted sweater and linen scarf (old, back from the days when I made real money) and Crocs.

I strode out the fence line, ponies following gamely, and I thought I spied something in the field next door.

Ah! Could that be the missing fly mask?

I leaned over to get a closer look...

ZZZT!

"Hello! I'm awake now!"

Our electric fence definitely works.

I did call out a... well... girly yelp of surprise and stupidity, and my Max was all over it, trotting forth, ears pricked, to find out what was wrong with me, and then consoling me against his massive neck.

"You are a tool, my human, but I loves ya! There, there. Bad fence."

Then the Boss and little grey approached as well, offered commiserations and it was liquorice all round.

"Is she special, your human, Max?"

"No, she's just busy. She's usually pretty clued up."

"Dude, she totally got zapped!"

"I know. I'll talk to her."

In remembrance

A year ago today, an extraordinary, incredible horse left this world and it was a proper cheat.

My dear friend and her spectacular boy deserved so much more time together, a happy retirement, but it wasn't to be.

The first anniversary is the hardest. I want to make a statement to mark this day because I haven't forgotten how much he taught me about damaged horses, and how to help them find their way back to trust and confidence.

So this is just for Sammie Soldier, an appreciation of what he was and what he left with us. I carry what he taught with me every day.

And for all the horses and ponies we have now in our care and love so truly, may we be good, strong guardians worthy of the trust they give us.

And for the ones we have lost and miss so much, whether our own horses, or the long ago riding school ponies who taught us to rise to the trot, strike off on the correct lead, make that first leap of faith over a jump, and gave us bruised lessons about hubris, may we never forget what we learned so it may help us be respectful, patient and kind.

And to the horses that are yet to come, may we be open to what they have to share and to new and thoughtful ways forward.

And to all of us, too, that recognise what horses are and care enough to live up to their grace.

For all of them and all of that, a pause to be grateful, remember and celebrate all the horses who cross our paths, deserve our respect, care and our open hearts.

The Jerk

After such a long spell of being a very splendid and co-operative fellow, it was just a matter of time until Max balked and showed his stubborn streak.

I could feel it coming a couple of days ago, when he was no longer keen to do the free school stuff, and since he was so lacklustre, we went back to basics and I set him up an L shaped obstacle course to back through hands free, and then we did some lateral work, moving sideways back and forth along a pole planted between his front and back legs.

We hadn't done that for a while, and it's a click/treat thing. He got really zealous about it and we had to have a pause to breathe deep and dial it down a notch because he was so focused and up for it.

"Ask me again! Ask me! I want that pony nut. Do it. COME ON! Bring it. I swear to God, I'll... what? What you want? Ask me! ASK, ASK, ASK!"

But that was a couple of days ago. Then there was a day off - too much yard work and then office work, so it was just a grooming day.

Then yesterday. Beautiful day full of promise and good weather, but the Hunt was gathering for cubbing across our neighbouring fields, setting off from the farm next door, just a stone's throw away, so opted not to ride out because of the potential; crazies - horses and hounds everywhere, not to mention horse boxes clogging up our single track road.

So back into the indoor school we went.

Max was an absolute sod. Did his "I know nuffink" routine and looked completely befuddled at everything we attempted, and I changed what we were doing a lot to see if I could engage him in different things. Any little thing.

He was not having it.

We started off all set up for long lining with roller on.

"No, no, NO! I have never done this before and I don't like it. Cease and desist!"

Hmm.

OK, so will we try one line and use the whole school for a bit of lunge work.

"NO! This bit vexes me and I'm going to eat it completely and then cross my jaw so I can't feel it. Who are you? Have we met? Why should I listen to you? What could you possibly have to say of interest to me? I will show you my very firmly halted and steadfast arse. What do you make of that, stranger?"

OK, so liberty work, shall we have a run together? I'll take all this bumf off and we'll have a play. You like that, don't you, and you and get all full of yourself and have a nice cavort. Shall we start at trot?

"No. Sod off."

Right, so yesterday we did some lovely obstacle course stuff and then we did the walking sideways over a pole, and you really enjoyed that.

Off I went to heave poles around.

Shall we try again?

"Sorry, did you say something? Sideways? No, I don't go sideways I go back and I go forward. That is all."

OK, so back up, then, at least.

"Did I say back? No, I just do forward. Bite me. Ha! You can't make me, can you, puny biped! Go on, push harder! Nope, not feelin' it, not doin' it."

OK, so come forward then, you big stubborn arse.

"Que? Quoi? Pardon? No speak your language. What you want? Chips on the side? Eh, wot?"

In the end I could feel myself getting frustrated, so I gave him a pat on the neck and walked away to sit down and find my neutral space. Did not want to handle him when I could feel the frustration rising.

Time Out.

Bless him, he knew something was up. He usually follows me when I walk away, but he just stood still at a distance and looked at me, head hung a little low.

I wasn't mad at him - maybe mad at myself and my expectations - but the sitting down and looking at him quietly while he looked back at me took the frustration away.

Picked up his head collar and said "Come on Monkey Chops, we're done. Let's get out of here."

Over he came then, offered his head for the head collar, and out we went. He was absolutely perfect at turning for the school door to close, made no attempt to snatch at grass and followed me like a lamb back to the yard.

Yes, of course YO was there watching.

"How was he? Was he good?"

"No, he was a jerk!" I replied grimly, waiting for the lecture about how I'm not firm enough, and Max doesn't work hard enough, and I have to push him through it.

But she smiled.

"That's what keeps us thinking! It would be boring if they were good all the time."

Disarmed, I carried on to the lower yard and got ready for Max to to go out to his field.

"Are you my best boy, Max?"

Head nod, and then whiskered muzzle thrust forward for a kiss.

"Sometimes I just don't wanna. Sorry. Couldn't be arsed."

Yeah, I do get that. No need to apologise, you great furry bit of magnificence on four hooves.

It was nothing really. Some days I get the "don't wanna/cant' be arsed" feeling too, so fair enough that Max does. That's perfectly OK.

I was away from the yard by half three which was just about when the hunt was set to kick off for their cubbing. A lot of the night horses were kept back in their boxes until it was done, but Max and his pony mates were allowed out because they are sensible.

I was told this morning by those who were around to watch, that the hunt spent quite a bit of time in the field right next to Max's paddock, and he put on a rather spectacular show, doing a floaty extended trot, tail raised like a flag, all along the fence line back and forth, leaving his field mates well behind as they couldn't keep up with the ground he covered, so they scrambled after him.

It is a sight to see, I know, Max properly strutting his stuff and getting down with his bad self. I've watched it myself enough times, but very nice to hear folk going on about what a beautiful movement he has (on his own, of course) and at least I know he had a good work out last night even if he didn't offer it up to me this time.

He was still all lit up this morning when I brought him in, very vocal and continually leaving his breakfast to call me over, with excited eyes, straining to get back out of his box again.

Was lovely this morning too, when I drove up, because as I got out of my car to open the gate, I looked back across to his field and could only see one field mate grazing. When I got out of my parked up car, Max was doing the lovely extended trot down the field to the gate, calling for me. Aw!

I think he wanted to tell me about his exciting night! "Ooh! The things I've seen! Busy, busy, busy!"

We cancelled "do nothing Friday" today. The weather is vile, he's had enough of the indoor school, and I thought it best to just give him a day off, so plonked his rain sheet on - thought about the hood and decided against because it's not that cold, and the rain will stop about midnight -so out he went with his mates and a mouth full of pear froth.

Max doesn't always go to plan, but he's never boring.