Slow and Steady

If slow and steady wins the race, Belle and I must be on our way to winning a really big trophy.  We are slow.  And steady!  I never meant for Belle's training to progress so slowly.  I work with her every day, but each mustang is different, and they can only be pushed so far without backsliding, so here we are.  I'm not complaining, mind you.  Each day, Belle gives me little tidbits of hope that soon she will be ready to accept the friendship that I am offering her.  She approaches the rails of her pen when she sees me coming with her hay, and she beats me to the gate when it's time for her turnout in the arena.  She backs away when I get there, but the fact that she anticipates me doing something for her, and lets me see that she's happy about it, is a good thing.

Belle isn't a horse that is motivated by food.  In fact, she rarely cleans up her hay, even the lovely alfalfa that I purchase just for her.  Mustangs are supposed to be thrifty, so I'm not quite sure why Belle is prone to wasting her feed, but she is healthy and maintains her weight, so I guess it's okay.  Except that it isn't okay, because it makes it darn-tootin' difficult to bribe her with food and treats!  Lately, though, I've made a show out of bringing Belle a handful of fresh-picked green grass and a couple of dry maple leaves.  Sounds yummy, doesn't it?  Lucky for Belle, the edges of the manure pile are bordered in luscious, thick, juicy, summer-like blades of green grass.  Every afternoon at the same time, Belle can watch me pick this lovely treat and she has begun to anticipate it.  The green grass smells so good, and when I bring it to her I can see how much she wants it.  I wait for her to take a couple of steps towards me, then I set it on a barrel for her, tell her how wonderful she is, and walk away.  As soon as I'm in the barn, Belle gobbles her treat.  Eventually, hopefully, she'll get closer and closer to me, and someday she'll take the treat from my hand.

Belle had me excited for a moment tonight.  It was feeding time, and I went into the arena with the intention of moving her into her pen for the night.  I was standing in the middle of the arena, and Belle was in a corner.  She moved towards me at a brisk walk, and for just a second I thought she was going to walk right up to me.  I know my pulse went up, and maybe she heard my heart thudding in my chest, because when she was about twelve feet away she suddenly came to her senses and stopped.  I praised her richly for her bravery, and turned away so that she might feel compelled to come closer.  She didn't, so I started walking towards her pen in hopes that she would follow me.  She decided to turn and go the other way, and she got to her pen before me.  She went in, then turned to face me, and we gazed into each others eyes for a few moments.  She is very good about facing up to me, and loves to make and keep eye contact with me.  Her body language is never challenging, which I certainly appreciate.  When will this sweet mare give it up?  When will she admit that life would better with a gentle, loving, generous leader?  Soon, I hope, and when she does, she and I will both know it's been a race worth the running.