Crazy Week

Most of the week has been spent either at work or at the therapeutic riding center.  We've been short of volunteers so I've been filling in as much as possible.  Needless to say, I haven't really worked with Max much, except for Thursday morning.

The farrier came out late morning. Before she comes, I try to clean the mud off his hooves and legs as much as possible.  So I stuck him out in the pasture and cleaned him off.  Then went back to the barn to clean out Cinderella's stall.  Go back out to the pasture, realize I forgot something, and start heading up to my car.  Right now, I just have a single strand of hot wire in those plastic step in posts.  Well, Max thought I had grain somewhere and tried to follow me out. I stupidly thought he'd stop at the pseudo-gate. Nope. I hear this crack then thundering hooves behind me. Turn around and there is the pony trotting into the barn. 

"Food please?"  Cute picture to break up the wall of text. Not taken yesterday.

 So then I decide to lunge him.  Take him out in a rope halter and lunge. We start out okay, but then things get interesting. He starts bucking a bit and I'm able to control him. Then he starts squealing and bucking and doesn't stop.  Needless to say, he gets away from me and goes galloping around the pasture with the 25' lunge line dragging behind.  Normally he doesn't care if it's dragging behind and he heads for the barn. Not this time.  He heads out of the pasture through the broken gate. Runs around the front yard, between our cars, heads to the back yard, then back towards the barn and paddock. He realizes that he can't get anywhere on the far side, runs around to the opposite side.

He does stop, but it's a very narrow spot where he's at and I can't see him around the corner. So I start talking to him, but staying as close to the barn as I can just in case he takes off again....and he does. He thought about jumping the tape but instead goes back through the broken gate into the pasture.  He finally slows down enough for me to get a hold of the line and we head back into the barn.  I throw him in his stall and clean his feet again.  He must have worn himself out because he was surprisingly good for the farrier.

Needless to say I was not pleased with his behavior. More groundwork is in his future.  

Funny thing was, I was lunging a Haflinger at the center in a round pen, and he insisted on squealing and bucking quite a bit too.  There must have been something in the air yesterday.