He's not playing

The horses are eating, Floss and Panache at the hay roll, Dante grazing the grass a little way off. My Labrador Maisie is mooching around the paddock, sniffing at things. Rolling in smelly stuff and eating things she probably shouldn’t, such as horse poo. I’m picking up horse poo, cleaning up the paddock. There’s a light drizzle but it’s not cold. In all, it’s remarkably pleasant. The magpies are carolling from a nearby yarri tree.

Maisie gets too close to Panache and he flicks an ear at her. She either doesn’t see it, doesn’t understand it, or chooses to ignore it. Whichever the reason, the result is the same; Maisie continues on her path, sniffing the ground right near Panache. He turns towards her, ears pinned back, and charges a few steps towards her. A warning. Maisie leaps away, dodges his charge and races away. Panache goes back to munching hay. Maisie continues racing around. She takes off across the paddock, makes short work of going through the fence, races along the firebreak outside the paddock. She’s gone crazy. I stop and watch her as sprints around like a mad dog. She bounds towards me and then runs back across to Panache. Clearly she thinks she and he are playing some sort of game. She play bows behind him, front paws extended, haunches raised. There is possibly a smile on her face – ‘come on, let’s play’ she seems to be saying. Panache flicks an ear. He’s not into this game. Maisie stands up and walks closer to him, coming up behind him.

Thwack!

Panache’s left hind leg flies through the air and connects with Maisie’s shoulder. She rolls across the grass, stumbles to her feet, falls, drags herself up and clambers towards me. Panache munches nonchalantly. Maisie falls again as she makes her way towards me. We meet halfway between the wheelbarrow and the horses. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. I’m not expecting an answer but I am expecting to have to lift her up and carry her to the car, rush her to the vet. There is a hoofprint on her shoulder. A dark imprint of dirt on her pale gold fur. I touch it, gently, checking to see if it hurts her. It doesn’t. The skin is not broken. It’s just a dirty mark. Maisie stands, a little forlorn, but not obviously hurt. I decide not to panic, to watch and wait a while. I go back to picking up horse poo. Maisie walks at my side. She stays close to me, away from the horses.

After a few minutes, I walk a little away from her then call her to me. She walks towards me. She’s not limping. She seems fine.

When I open the door, she jumps into the ute as if nothing has happened. Back at home, she jumps out and runs around. She is absolutely fine. Unbelievable.

The next morning, she jumps into the ute to come back to the horses’ paddock with me. Maisie stays out of the paddock (as she is supposed to do!) as I give the horses their bucket feeds. She mooches up to Floss and licks up the feed she spills. Maisie knows Floss tolerates this. Maisie wanders off across the paddock and sniffs around. She gives Panache a wide berth. Lesson learnt, it seems. At least for now. Time will tell if the lesson sticks.

Thanks for reading

Jill