I took my elderly mum in her wheelchair to a field where there are nice horses, a trio minding their own business. Naturally, events took a turn where first one, and then the other two huffle along to the fence where we are standing, to say hello.
Then we look at each other.
Are we supposed to feed them, are they expecting an apple or something? Or would that lead to them biting my hand off? Or being shouted at by an angry farmer? Or do I just talk to them, sing their praises as a wonderful example of equine glory?
I stroked them a bit but it all seemed a bit disconsolate and I started to make excuses to leave. It wasn't like when you stroke a cat and they start to get into it.
It reminded me of being a teenager and going to chat up a girl only for neither of us knowing where to take it.