It was incredibly intense this year, the summer always is in Mallorca - but this year it felt endless in its severity. Day after day after day of humid heat which drains every cell of its very being, sapping all life and energy so that you are reduced to becoming a lethargic sloth, complaining about the weather as each minute passes. The only way to survive the long summer months is to get up very early and do the horses before 9am. All feeding, mucking out, grooming, riding, washing, poo picking, scrubbing and raking was finished before most people had eaten breakfast - as well as training the Ugly Brown Foal.
The UBF continued school throughout the summer, learning the basics of groundwork and beginning some new experiences. He leads well, he stays out of your personal space, he yields to pressure on his hind end and shoulders, he trots behind when we run, he backs up and he has begun circles - the precursor to lunging. He loves his walks about the farm and confidently walks over tarpaulin, he can be tied up to be groomed, he is confident with a saddle pad on his body and happy to even wear it on his head! He likes the tractor and is curious about cars, he wants to be friends with the chickens and the noisy geese. He is frightened of nothing, even fireworks, where he stared at the sky in wonder as the other horses trembled in fear, spraying poo around their paddocks.
He's a great horse, I really love him. I love his curiosity and goofy ways. I trust him in the field with strangers now, as he learns not to crowd, or wave his legs in the air or bite. He is very slowly growing up. Every day I look at his body and ask myself if he is ready to be ridden. He looks big and strong but my gut says we need to wait, he is still a big baby. I want to give this boy time so that when we do hop on top, it won't be a big deal at all. So for now we continue the groundwork, the time being tied up to be groomed without a fuss, we may start some basic lunging and long reining around the farm. I will spend the autumn hanging out with him more, not asking anything of him, observing him without sweat pouring from my brows and across my upper lip - finding his itchy spot and connecting again.
Summer in Mallorca reminds me of the winter in England - just something to get through until the fun can start again. So as their coats grow fluffy and the land returns verdant after the dusty brown months, I look forward to continuing the UBF's education in the slowest, kindest way possible - ignoring the opinions of others.
Which is perhaps the hardest thing of all.
