Musings of a mustang lover and trainer.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Meeting Her Middle
Since the day that I removed Belle's number tag she has become more relaxed and happy with me when I pet, scratch, rub and make a pest of myself around her face and the upper part of her neck. I mastered her hind end a long time ago, but the middle of Belle's body was still relatively untouched. I'd been itching to get my fingertips in that long stretch of virgin horsehide.
Patience and persistence paid off again, and now I can walk up to Belle, give her a carrot and a kiss, run my hand down her neck, give her a good scratch on her shoulder, tickle her withers, and rub her back in long, slow strokes. It isn't quite as easy as it sounds, and there is mustang protocol to follow, but it is good, solid progress. My next goal is to get two hands on Belle at the same time so that I can work on getting the snarls out of her mane, but for now, I'd say our dear sweet Belle is doing far better than fair-to-middlin'.
Patience and persistence paid off again, and now I can walk up to Belle, give her a carrot and a kiss, run my hand down her neck, give her a good scratch on her shoulder, tickle her withers, and rub her back in long, slow strokes. It isn't quite as easy as it sounds, and there is mustang protocol to follow, but it is good, solid progress. My next goal is to get two hands on Belle at the same time so that I can work on getting the snarls out of her mane, but for now, I'd say our dear sweet Belle is doing far better than fair-to-middlin'.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Belle's Gold Medal
Wild mustangs fresh from the BLM corrals almost always wear a tag printed with their personal identification number on a length of stiff, waxy string around their throat latch. In Oregon, the BLM uses red string for the mares and fillies, and a bluish colored string for colts, stallions, and geldings. The tag is made of sturdy yellow plastic, and is kind of a triangular shape with rounded corners. The string is woven through and tied to a small, V-shaped piece of aluminum that has three holes on each end. I imagine that putting the string around the neck of a nervous, unhandled mustang in a stock is no easy task, and I admire the wranglers who have the skill and patience necessary to accomplish it. Taking the string and tag off of the mustang is a bit tricky as well, and is considered by most folks to be a momentous occasion, on par with cutting the umbilical cord. With the tag on, the horse is a wild mustang referred to by its number. With the tag off, the horse is on its way to being domestic, and is trusting enough to let a human put her hands by its throat and undo the tricky little knot there. Once in my hand, the humble piece of yellow plastic feels like an Olympic gold medal.
Typically, a trainer or adopter can plan on getting the number tag off the new mustang within two weeks or so. Typically. Is Belle typical? Nope. I've had Belle for exactly ten months today, and today is the day that she chose to let me take her tag off. Instant gratification is highly overrated, by the way. Delayed gratification is so much more rewarding!
Since the day that I was first able to scratch Belle's star, I've been working my hands around her face and her throat, and playing with her tag as well as the rope and halter. Today I was hoping to be able to touch her neck and mane, which I did, but I didn't really plan to remove her tag. Belle was so relaxed and happy with being petted and scratched, that removing it just seemed like the right thing to do. While I was at it, I gave a big, nasty chunk of loose mane a good, hard tug and the whole big blob came out in my hand. It is lovely hair, but she looks better without it hanging there. Working out the tangles in the rest of her mane will be a job for another day.
Belle was willing to give me more, so I snapped my 15 foot-long rope onto her halter and played a little bit of pressure-and-release with her, then removed it and let her relax while I scratched her face and neck again. It was a very satisfying session, and the best part was that Belle was comfortable with everything that I did. I think she deserves a medal!
Typically, a trainer or adopter can plan on getting the number tag off the new mustang within two weeks or so. Typically. Is Belle typical? Nope. I've had Belle for exactly ten months today, and today is the day that she chose to let me take her tag off. Instant gratification is highly overrated, by the way. Delayed gratification is so much more rewarding!
Since the day that I was first able to scratch Belle's star, I've been working my hands around her face and her throat, and playing with her tag as well as the rope and halter. Today I was hoping to be able to touch her neck and mane, which I did, but I didn't really plan to remove her tag. Belle was so relaxed and happy with being petted and scratched, that removing it just seemed like the right thing to do. While I was at it, I gave a big, nasty chunk of loose mane a good, hard tug and the whole big blob came out in my hand. It is lovely hair, but she looks better without it hanging there. Working out the tangles in the rest of her mane will be a job for another day.
Belle was willing to give me more, so I snapped my 15 foot-long rope onto her halter and played a little bit of pressure-and-release with her, then removed it and let her relax while I scratched her face and neck again. It was a very satisfying session, and the best part was that Belle was comfortable with everything that I did. I think she deserves a medal!
Friday, September 7, 2012
Stardust
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Brushing Belle's Beautiful Butt
A couple of months ago, in an almost desperate attempt to get my hands on Belle's lovely hide, I started brushing her rump and the top of her tail while she had her nose jammed into the corner of her stall and her lovely posterior presented to me. It was a bit nerve-racking, and the brushing was done at arm's-length. It didn't seem wise, not because it was dangerous (okay, a little dangerous, but I am, after all, an adrenaline junky) but because from then on all she ever wanted was her butt brushed, and getting her to face up to me became a chore. After a few days, I abandoned her hind end and focused on hand-feeding the front end, without any direct attempts to touch her. I wanted her to want to touch me. Eventually, after countless pounds of hand-fed carrots passed through her, she began to touch my out-stretched empty hand. What progress!
In an effort to move forward, and because of her willingness to touch me, I have returned to brushing Belle's beautiful butt. Both sides of her butt, in fact, which is twice as much as I was able to do previously. Not only brushing, but petting, patting, and scratching with my fingernails. And not just her butt, but also her back, right up to her withers. And her tail! It's a goofy thing, but I feel perfectly safe and comfortable standing directly behind Belle's long, powerful hind legs, picking up her silky-smooth tail, and brushing it until it glistens in a blond cascade behind that glorious posterior. I'm itching to get my fingers in her mane, but I suppose a bit more patience will be required for that. I am still happy with Belle, in spite of her slow progress. She is a quiet, gentle, peaceful soul, and just so stinkin' beautiful.
In an effort to move forward, and because of her willingness to touch me, I have returned to brushing Belle's beautiful butt. Both sides of her butt, in fact, which is twice as much as I was able to do previously. Not only brushing, but petting, patting, and scratching with my fingernails. And not just her butt, but also her back, right up to her withers. And her tail! It's a goofy thing, but I feel perfectly safe and comfortable standing directly behind Belle's long, powerful hind legs, picking up her silky-smooth tail, and brushing it until it glistens in a blond cascade behind that glorious posterior. I'm itching to get my fingers in her mane, but I suppose a bit more patience will be required for that. I am still happy with Belle, in spite of her slow progress. She is a quiet, gentle, peaceful soul, and just so stinkin' beautiful.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Three Wishes
Some of the best advice I've had regarding gentling mustangs is to not "want it" so bad. Don't want the first touch, don't want the horse to approach me, don't want it to call out to me. It's good advice because it helps put me in the mind-frame of just waiting, being patient, and letting the horse decide when she's ready for more interaction with me.
After six months of pretending I didn't want it, I finally said, out loud, that I wished Belle would get vocal with me, and I wished she would touch me, and I wished she would eat from my hand. Well, I didn't rub a lamp, and I didn't see a genie, but somebody was listening because the very next day when I arrived at the barn Belle called out to me with a lovely, low nicker that clearly meant, "Nice to see you today, may I have some hay, please?" She has nice manners, doesn't she? Not all horses are so polite, you know. I'm nice too, so I loaded my arms with a big flake of soft grass hay and held it through the fence to her. Did I really expect her to walk right up to me and eat from my hands? Honestly? No, not really, but I figured maybe I was on a roll and I had nothing to lose. I figured right! Belle really did walk up to the fence and take three big mouthfuls from the flake I offered to her.
It's been five days since the first time Belle ate hay from my hands, and we've been perfecting our routine since then. Today was her best day yet. This morning she ate hay from the flake in my hands, but this evening she was happy to accept a tiny handful of hay. I started picking long, fragrant, fresh green grass for her, and she would accept just a stem or two at a time from my hand. When she nibbled at the stems, she touched my hand with her warm, soft lips, which was a first. The funny part was, she acted like it was no big deal, but it was, and I loved seeing her act so casual about it.
Belle has an established fondness for carrots. Typically, I toss pieces on the ground for her, and she has fun picking them up. A few months ago, I started using the word "cookie" whenever I offered her a piece, and as she was chewing it I would repeat the word several times in a sing-song voice. Today I offered Belle a whole, large carrot from my hand. She never tried to take it from me, but as soon as she looked at it I dropped a small piece of another carrot on the floor and said the word "cookie". Pretty soon she was touching the carrot to earn the reward. After a few minutes, she was touching my hand, deliberately, to earn the reward. It is the same as clicker training, except that I use the word "cookie" spoken in a unique way in place of an actual clicker. Clicker training involves the use of a target and a reward to establish a desired behavior. In this instance, the whole carrot was the target, the small piece of carrot was the reward, and touching my hand was the desired behavior.
Belle's progress this evening was amazing. After the carrot session, she acted like she couldn't get enough of me, and followed me everywhere. If I was outside of the paddocks or the arena, she stuck her head over the top rail and kept a close eye on me. She's never, ever, done that before. It's a funny coincidence, but just the other day I was remembering how Siesta and Capri used to do that and I wondered if Belle ever would. I guess I have my answer! I rewarded her with lots of verbal praise and more handfuls of fresh grass.
I'm still going to play it cool and not pressure Belle too much, but if Belle is as hooked on me as I am on her, I think we can expect a lot more progress in the next week. Working with a responsive animal is so much fun, it is difficult to not get too excited, or to want it too much, but it's easy to think of more things I would like from Belle, so maybe I'll just make some more wishes.
After six months of pretending I didn't want it, I finally said, out loud, that I wished Belle would get vocal with me, and I wished she would touch me, and I wished she would eat from my hand. Well, I didn't rub a lamp, and I didn't see a genie, but somebody was listening because the very next day when I arrived at the barn Belle called out to me with a lovely, low nicker that clearly meant, "Nice to see you today, may I have some hay, please?" She has nice manners, doesn't she? Not all horses are so polite, you know. I'm nice too, so I loaded my arms with a big flake of soft grass hay and held it through the fence to her. Did I really expect her to walk right up to me and eat from my hands? Honestly? No, not really, but I figured maybe I was on a roll and I had nothing to lose. I figured right! Belle really did walk up to the fence and take three big mouthfuls from the flake I offered to her.
It's been five days since the first time Belle ate hay from my hands, and we've been perfecting our routine since then. Today was her best day yet. This morning she ate hay from the flake in my hands, but this evening she was happy to accept a tiny handful of hay. I started picking long, fragrant, fresh green grass for her, and she would accept just a stem or two at a time from my hand. When she nibbled at the stems, she touched my hand with her warm, soft lips, which was a first. The funny part was, she acted like it was no big deal, but it was, and I loved seeing her act so casual about it.
Belle has an established fondness for carrots. Typically, I toss pieces on the ground for her, and she has fun picking them up. A few months ago, I started using the word "cookie" whenever I offered her a piece, and as she was chewing it I would repeat the word several times in a sing-song voice. Today I offered Belle a whole, large carrot from my hand. She never tried to take it from me, but as soon as she looked at it I dropped a small piece of another carrot on the floor and said the word "cookie". Pretty soon she was touching the carrot to earn the reward. After a few minutes, she was touching my hand, deliberately, to earn the reward. It is the same as clicker training, except that I use the word "cookie" spoken in a unique way in place of an actual clicker. Clicker training involves the use of a target and a reward to establish a desired behavior. In this instance, the whole carrot was the target, the small piece of carrot was the reward, and touching my hand was the desired behavior.
Belle's progress this evening was amazing. After the carrot session, she acted like she couldn't get enough of me, and followed me everywhere. If I was outside of the paddocks or the arena, she stuck her head over the top rail and kept a close eye on me. She's never, ever, done that before. It's a funny coincidence, but just the other day I was remembering how Siesta and Capri used to do that and I wondered if Belle ever would. I guess I have my answer! I rewarded her with lots of verbal praise and more handfuls of fresh grass.
I'm still going to play it cool and not pressure Belle too much, but if Belle is as hooked on me as I am on her, I think we can expect a lot more progress in the next week. Working with a responsive animal is so much fun, it is difficult to not get too excited, or to want it too much, but it's easy to think of more things I would like from Belle, so maybe I'll just make some more wishes.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
The Devil Needed His Chocolate Fix
On a blustery Wednesday evening six weeks ago, Rick had the shortest, wildest ride of his life. Capri, the sweet chocolate-coated mustang mare, had been twiddling her thumbs for a couple of weeks and needed to be ridden. As her trainer, I had been Capri's primary rider. Rick had only ridden her twice before, and on each of those occasions I rode her first. On this particular evening, I wasn't feeling well, so I groomed Capri but Rick did her groundwork, then saddled her up. She seemed a little sassy, and maybe a little nervous, but she hadn't had much work lately and it was a very windy evening. In fact, if the wind hadn't died down at the last minute, Rick wouldn't have ridden her at all, as it was a very noisy, somewhat creepy storm.
With the saddle and bridle snug in their places on our sweet Capri, Rick put his left foot in the stirrup. Capri side-stepped away, and Rick repositioned her and told her to hold still. She did, but she still looked sassy and nervous. It was unusual behavior for Capri, but we thought she would be okay once Rick was up and he got her busy.
Get up and get busy doesn't begin to describe it.
Rick set his seat in the saddle, slipped his second foot in the stirrup, and picked up the reins. And that is when Capri cut loose. I've never been so close to such ferocious bucking in my life. She gave him the ol' one-two punch with a fancy combination of bucking and crow-hopping, and to his credit, Rick stayed on for three big bucks before he came flying off and landed on his back in the soft arena footing. Capri wasn't done, though. She felt the need to stick around and buck some more, right over the top of Rick while he was still on his back. Darn if it wasn't the scariest thing I've ever seen! Rick literally reached up with both feet to kick and push Capri off of him. She kept bucking--hard--while galloping two laps around the arena. Rick was okay, thank heaven, except for some general soreness.
Once Capri stopped, she came to me and put her head at my shoulder and acted like nothing at all had happened. She looked fine, and I was convinced that she simply preferred me, which really had me worried, because training horses that only respond to me is not what I'm here to do. Creating a Jekyll and Hyde monster is not my idea of successful horse training!
I let a day go by, a day spent agonizing over Capri's future. Who would want a devil horse? Rick doesn't, and I don't either, but it was impossible to believe that our sweet Capri had actually gone to the other side. I needed to spend some time with Capri to find out what was really going on. So I groomed her and got the saddle out. Saddling Capri has always been a simple task, and she has never shown the slightest bit fear or discomfort regarding it. Until this time. She let me put the saddle pad on her back without too much concern, but when I lifted the saddle up her eyes about popped out of her head and she snorted with fear. I set it gently on her back, but it was clear that she was terrified of me putting the right stirrup and cinch down, so I left them up. I cooed to her and soothed her fear, then asked her to take a few steps. She did, and gradually calmed down. I put the saddle away and spent some quiet time with her before putting her away too.
I let another day go by, then decided to get to the heart of the matter. When all else fails go back to square one, right? I got the teeny-tiny pony saddle out and plopped it on Capri with no problem. Dropped the stirrup and cinched her up, and still no problem. I took it off, and replaced it with the big saddle, which I cinched up without too much trouble. I put the bridle on too, and made it clear to Capri with my posture that I had no intention of riding her, but we were going to do some groundwork. I picked up the left rein and asked her to give to the pressure. She did, with no problem, so I did the same with the right rein, which caused her to absolutely explode. I was standing at her head, and she was nice enough to explode in reverse, so I was fine. So, now I knew where the problem was. Capri had some serious pain in her right shoulder or elbow and her girth area. It explained why the bucking started the instant Rick put weight in the right stirrup and picked up the right rein. Capri and the other horses had been doing some crazy running and bucking in the pastures the very afternoon of Rick's eventful ride, so there is a good chance that she hurt herself at that time. Poor Capri. Why didn't we listen when she tried to tell us she didn't want a rider? Perhaps she could have spoken a little more clearly? A nice, obvious limp would've been a good clue! What does she think I am, anyway, a horse whisperer?
So now six weeks have passed, and in that time Capri has had a mixed bag of treatments, including bute, rest, light turnout, light exercise, and massage. Tonight, she had some vigorous exercise and a massage that she enjoyed very much. She is feeling good and looking bright and beautiful, so the plan is to get her gradually back in training. I don't know exactly what the future holds for Capri, but she is staying on the sweet side, and the Devil can get his fix somewhere else.
With the saddle and bridle snug in their places on our sweet Capri, Rick put his left foot in the stirrup. Capri side-stepped away, and Rick repositioned her and told her to hold still. She did, but she still looked sassy and nervous. It was unusual behavior for Capri, but we thought she would be okay once Rick was up and he got her busy.
Get up and get busy doesn't begin to describe it.
Rick set his seat in the saddle, slipped his second foot in the stirrup, and picked up the reins. And that is when Capri cut loose. I've never been so close to such ferocious bucking in my life. She gave him the ol' one-two punch with a fancy combination of bucking and crow-hopping, and to his credit, Rick stayed on for three big bucks before he came flying off and landed on his back in the soft arena footing. Capri wasn't done, though. She felt the need to stick around and buck some more, right over the top of Rick while he was still on his back. Darn if it wasn't the scariest thing I've ever seen! Rick literally reached up with both feet to kick and push Capri off of him. She kept bucking--hard--while galloping two laps around the arena. Rick was okay, thank heaven, except for some general soreness.
Once Capri stopped, she came to me and put her head at my shoulder and acted like nothing at all had happened. She looked fine, and I was convinced that she simply preferred me, which really had me worried, because training horses that only respond to me is not what I'm here to do. Creating a Jekyll and Hyde monster is not my idea of successful horse training!
I let a day go by, a day spent agonizing over Capri's future. Who would want a devil horse? Rick doesn't, and I don't either, but it was impossible to believe that our sweet Capri had actually gone to the other side. I needed to spend some time with Capri to find out what was really going on. So I groomed her and got the saddle out. Saddling Capri has always been a simple task, and she has never shown the slightest bit fear or discomfort regarding it. Until this time. She let me put the saddle pad on her back without too much concern, but when I lifted the saddle up her eyes about popped out of her head and she snorted with fear. I set it gently on her back, but it was clear that she was terrified of me putting the right stirrup and cinch down, so I left them up. I cooed to her and soothed her fear, then asked her to take a few steps. She did, and gradually calmed down. I put the saddle away and spent some quiet time with her before putting her away too.
I let another day go by, then decided to get to the heart of the matter. When all else fails go back to square one, right? I got the teeny-tiny pony saddle out and plopped it on Capri with no problem. Dropped the stirrup and cinched her up, and still no problem. I took it off, and replaced it with the big saddle, which I cinched up without too much trouble. I put the bridle on too, and made it clear to Capri with my posture that I had no intention of riding her, but we were going to do some groundwork. I picked up the left rein and asked her to give to the pressure. She did, with no problem, so I did the same with the right rein, which caused her to absolutely explode. I was standing at her head, and she was nice enough to explode in reverse, so I was fine. So, now I knew where the problem was. Capri had some serious pain in her right shoulder or elbow and her girth area. It explained why the bucking started the instant Rick put weight in the right stirrup and picked up the right rein. Capri and the other horses had been doing some crazy running and bucking in the pastures the very afternoon of Rick's eventful ride, so there is a good chance that she hurt herself at that time. Poor Capri. Why didn't we listen when she tried to tell us she didn't want a rider? Perhaps she could have spoken a little more clearly? A nice, obvious limp would've been a good clue! What does she think I am, anyway, a horse whisperer?
So now six weeks have passed, and in that time Capri has had a mixed bag of treatments, including bute, rest, light turnout, light exercise, and massage. Tonight, she had some vigorous exercise and a massage that she enjoyed very much. She is feeling good and looking bright and beautiful, so the plan is to get her gradually back in training. I don't know exactly what the future holds for Capri, but she is staying on the sweet side, and the Devil can get his fix somewhere else.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
So Cute!
If only I'd had my camera on me tonight, I would have the cutest video to share with you. Rick and I were badly in need of a ride, and it was a lovely evening, so we saddled a couple of trusty steeds and mounted up. Belle and Woody (the fat little pony that is Belle's designated buddy) were hanging out in the arena, and instead of shooing them out, we let them stay, and left the gate open to the paddock, just to see what they would do. Woody's favorite game is Follow the Leader, so when Rick went by him on his mare, Woody fell in behind. What did Belle do? She fell in behind Woody, and the three of them went round and round the arena in the cutest nose-to-tail fashion. More than once, I created a diversion on my horse by getting in Belle's way or otherwise upsetting the queue, but Belle was able to out-think me and get back in line behind Woody every time.
Belle's progress toward the goal of becoming gentle and halter-broke is still going slow, but she is still progressing, so there is still hope for her. Her interaction with us tonight was not only cute and sweet and funny, but also a real sign that she is interested in spending time with us. Belle doesn't like to be pressured, and any attempt at forcing her to respond to proven training methods will only back-fire and cause a regression. So, in the interest of staying safe and letting her keep her sanity, most of my time with Belle is of a quiet, gentle nature. She is always happy to see me and follows me around, but stays at a distance of twelve feet or so from me. In her stall, I can pick her rope up and ask her to come to me. She'll come within a foot or two, but she doesn't relax and enjoy the experience at all. Touching her with my hand hasn't happened yet, but she will allow me to scratch her all over with a lunge whip, and drape the string end of the whip all over her body.
I don't know why Belle is so different from Capri and Siesta, but she is, and I respect and appreciate her unique personality. Each mustang has something to teach me: Patience, Humility, Perseverance, and more. Allowing the lessons to flow between the horse and the human creates a give-and-take relationship that is based on trust and love. And that will, eventually, help Belle to be a Gentle Mustang. In the meantime, I'm enjoying watching her bloom in her own time and in her own way. And she really is just so Stinkin' Cute!
Belle's progress toward the goal of becoming gentle and halter-broke is still going slow, but she is still progressing, so there is still hope for her. Her interaction with us tonight was not only cute and sweet and funny, but also a real sign that she is interested in spending time with us. Belle doesn't like to be pressured, and any attempt at forcing her to respond to proven training methods will only back-fire and cause a regression. So, in the interest of staying safe and letting her keep her sanity, most of my time with Belle is of a quiet, gentle nature. She is always happy to see me and follows me around, but stays at a distance of twelve feet or so from me. In her stall, I can pick her rope up and ask her to come to me. She'll come within a foot or two, but she doesn't relax and enjoy the experience at all. Touching her with my hand hasn't happened yet, but she will allow me to scratch her all over with a lunge whip, and drape the string end of the whip all over her body.
I don't know why Belle is so different from Capri and Siesta, but she is, and I respect and appreciate her unique personality. Each mustang has something to teach me: Patience, Humility, Perseverance, and more. Allowing the lessons to flow between the horse and the human creates a give-and-take relationship that is based on trust and love. And that will, eventually, help Belle to be a Gentle Mustang. In the meantime, I'm enjoying watching her bloom in her own time and in her own way. And she really is just so Stinkin' Cute!
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Capri's Day Out
It was March of last year that Rick and I started ponying River on the trails. She has become a very solid riding horse, both in the arena and on the trails, and we're very happy with her. Here we are looking at spring again, and now it's Capri's turn to learn to be a trail horse. The weatherman promised us a nice day, and while he wasn't entirely correct (hey, what else is new?), it was a decent day for riding, so we loaded Capri in the trailer with April and Buddy.
Our usual trail-riding place surprised us with snow on the ground, but it wasn't very cold out, and the snow just added to the fun.
Capri was terrific for the entire two-hour ride, and Rick and I were very proud of her. We've had a lot of wet weather recently, so the trails that weren't snowy were very muddy.
We sloshed through puddles and ponds, forded the high, raging stream, stepped over big logs, pushed through tight brush, stopped to cut branches and fallen trees, went up and down steep hillsides, and crossed four bridges without so much as a blink from Capri.
Capri was so good, you'd think she'd been out in the wilderness before...oh, wait, she's a mustang! She has been out in the wilderness before! Except, where Capri is from, the terrain is sagebrush, scrub pine and sand. Here in western Washington State, we have fir and cedars, fern, moss, and mud, so for her to be happy and comfortable in the deep woods made us very happy too.
Rick and I always ride in big loops, never riding the same trail twice in the same day, and we finished today's ride by riding on a short stretch of road.
There weren't any cars, but one of the neighborhood horses decided to play a little prank on us by galloping towards his fence, then spinning and galloping away. The sight of this blanketed beast bearing down on us nearly gave us all heart failure, but Capri pleased us again by cozying up to Rick and April for comfort, instead of trying to bolt away or do something foolish.
Isn't she just amazing? We'll pony Capri a few more times, and keep riding her in the arena until she's rock-solid, and then she'll get to make her big trail debut under saddle. We have a hunch she's going to be awesome!
Our usual trail-riding place surprised us with snow on the ground, but it wasn't very cold out, and the snow just added to the fun.
Capri was terrific for the entire two-hour ride, and Rick and I were very proud of her. We've had a lot of wet weather recently, so the trails that weren't snowy were very muddy.
We sloshed through puddles and ponds, forded the high, raging stream, stepped over big logs, pushed through tight brush, stopped to cut branches and fallen trees, went up and down steep hillsides, and crossed four bridges without so much as a blink from Capri.
Capri was so good, you'd think she'd been out in the wilderness before...oh, wait, she's a mustang! She has been out in the wilderness before! Except, where Capri is from, the terrain is sagebrush, scrub pine and sand. Here in western Washington State, we have fir and cedars, fern, moss, and mud, so for her to be happy and comfortable in the deep woods made us very happy too.
Rick and I always ride in big loops, never riding the same trail twice in the same day, and we finished today's ride by riding on a short stretch of road.
There weren't any cars, but one of the neighborhood horses decided to play a little prank on us by galloping towards his fence, then spinning and galloping away. The sight of this blanketed beast bearing down on us nearly gave us all heart failure, but Capri pleased us again by cozying up to Rick and April for comfort, instead of trying to bolt away or do something foolish.
Isn't she just amazing? We'll pony Capri a few more times, and keep riding her in the arena until she's rock-solid, and then she'll get to make her big trail debut under saddle. We have a hunch she's going to be awesome!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Blink Once For Yes
I made a new friend last weekend, a city girl whose only pet is a small dog, and I had the opportunity to show her the barn and let her meet the mustangs. She admired each of them, and relished being able to spend time in the presence of horses. While she was petting Capri, and we were talking about mustangs and horses in general, she asked a question that I wasn't sure I could answer. You know how when you're talking to your cat, and you're looking deep into his eyes, and he gives a slow, sure blink in response?
My friend was wondering if horses do that, and I said I wasn't sure, but maybe, but if they do it seems less deliberate than when a cat does it. I think dogs do it sometimes, but a horse? It seems like they blink if I'm petting them, but when I'm talking to them they tend to stare. What do you think? Blink once for yes...
Sunday, February 5, 2012
When You Care Enough To...Glare?
Belle turned a corner tonight. A little corner, but a corner nonetheless. She showed emotion! I mean an emotion other than fear and avoidance. And she showed it to me!
Up to now, when Belle has had her dinner, she would eat if I was with her, but only if I would hold very still. If I made a move, she would stop and back away from her hay until I backed up, then she would return and gingerly resume her meal. Tonight, however, I leaned on the rails in a forward, relaxed posture like I might do with any other horse.
I didn't really expect her to eat with me there like that. But, eat she did.
But that's not all. My presence didn't please her. That's no big surprise, and it doesn't hurt my feelings. The big surprise was that she became annoyed with me. So annoyed, that she actually pinned her ears and stuck her nose towards me and GLARED! TWICE! She cared enough to glare at me! Next thing you know she'll be showing me her hooves! I can't wait! Any emotion is good...it gives me something to work with. I care, therefore I glare...that's so sweet!
Up to now, when Belle has had her dinner, she would eat if I was with her, but only if I would hold very still. If I made a move, she would stop and back away from her hay until I backed up, then she would return and gingerly resume her meal. Tonight, however, I leaned on the rails in a forward, relaxed posture like I might do with any other horse.
I didn't really expect her to eat with me there like that. But, eat she did.
But that's not all. My presence didn't please her. That's no big surprise, and it doesn't hurt my feelings. The big surprise was that she became annoyed with me. So annoyed, that she actually pinned her ears and stuck her nose towards me and GLARED! TWICE! She cared enough to glare at me! Next thing you know she'll be showing me her hooves! I can't wait! Any emotion is good...it gives me something to work with. I care, therefore I glare...that's so sweet!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
A Little Bit Braver
Sweet, beautiful Belle is still making little bits of progress. Nothing monumental, and each little thing would hardly be worth writing about individually, but together the little bits add up to a smidgen of hope that one day Belle will be ready to join up with me and learn to enjoy domesticity.
Our good friend Capri is back for more training, and the two mares are enjoying hanging out together during the day. Capri is the boss, and Belle will follow her, which surprised and charmed me the first time I put them together. Part of the day, Capri gets to go out in the pasture to nibble on what's left of the grass. Belle gets as close as she can to Capri's pasture and keeps an eye on her.
It makes me happy to see Belle care about somebody, even if it isn't
me. She needs to get engaged with life, to learn to embrace the
challenges, and show some emotion. It's a funny thing about her,
really; she shows very little emotion about anything. She doesn't seem
depressed, but she's just a little too disinterested. An emotional
flat-liner, I suppose you could say. No head-tossing or kicking up her
heels, no nickering or bickering with other horses, not even a glare to
spare for her ever-persistent trainer.
She is mighty cute, though, isn't she? She lets me love her from a
distance, and for now that is good enough. Through patience and faith,
trust will surely come. Right?
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
A Spot of Snow
Friday, January 6, 2012
Getting Back to Business
When Belle first arrived here eight weeks ago, I had it in mind to let her settle in for a bit, then get right down to the business of getting her gentle. I could pick up the end of her drag rope and move her in a circle, and even ask her to take sideways steps towards me. I felt pretty confident that she would come around in the same time frame that Siesta and Capri did. Now I know that Belle will come around, but she'll do it in her time, not someone else's.
Belle isn't stubborn. She isn't silly or stupid. In fact, she is quite clever, charming, and creative. She's also fearful, and it's that fear that has made progress go so slowly. When working with her in the gentling pen or the round pen, she would express her fear by running in furious, mindless circles, which is not a good thing to do, especially while wearing a drag rope. Rather than pushing her hard and fast, I've been working to earn her trust, and it's been paying off consistently, in little bits at a time. By using pressure and release tactics, I've shown Belle that she doesn't need to blow up and nearly hurt herself whenever she gets afraid. She can calm down and listen to me now. That's a huge sign of progress, and it's what I needed to know before I could get back to business and move her forward in her training.
I'm the proud owner of a twelve-foot bamboo pole. I like the length of the pole, as it matches the amount of personal space that horses like to keep around themselves when they are checking out a visitor, whether horse or human. I've been using the pole to get closer to Belle, using it to move her forequarters and hindquarters effectively, using it to desensitize her to touch, and using it to pick up the end of the drag rope, which I can then grasp with my hand.
Sometimes, I can pick the rope up without help from the pole, but Belle has adopted the rope as part of her body, and she is very clever at positioning it just out of my reach. I see no reason to bend down and present my skull as a target for her hind end (never mind that she's never yet offered to kick...there can always be a first time), so the pole is useful for "fishing" the rope up to me. Belle actually likes this part of the game, and patiently waits while I get the rope up off the ground, slide it down the length of the pole, and into my hand. I like the game, too! As further evidence of how clever and creative Belle is, she somehow managed to tie a lovely knot in her rope, approximately two feet from the dragging end. I love the knot, because it gives weight to the rope in just the right place, and makes it much easier to pick up with the pole.
So, with the rope in my hand, I let Belle do circles around me until she is relaxed and breathing, then I start to apply pressure to her head. The other half of pressure is release, and I like to experiment with how much pressure I can apply before she needs her release. I start by squeezing my fist on the rope...release. Then a little wrist motion...release. Next, some elbow-bending...release. Belle's head turns towards me every time I exert pressure, and it returns to a straight position with every release. If I get greedy and ask for pressure plus more pressure without a release, she pulls the rope from my hand and spins away to her favorite corner. That's okay, though, because as she continues to learn I have to test her to see how far I can push ( or pull, in this case). I fish the rope up, then start again. This time, after the elbow-bending pressure, I use my whole body and step backwards in a straight line and expect her to move not just her head, but also her forequarters, toward me. She does, as long as I offer a release. This part of the game forces her to confront her fear, so I keep it brief and let her return to her comfort zone, then ask it again on the next lap. That way, she is allowed to build confidence without passing the threshold of her sanity, and we stay safe. I find a good note to quit on, and then we spend some quiet time together.
There is still a lot to look forward to with Belle, but I am enjoying working with her. I'm convinced that when she finally comes around she is going to be a heck of a nice horse. She sure is pretty, and so sweet too. Good things are in Belle's future, and I can hardly wait to show them to her.
Belle isn't stubborn. She isn't silly or stupid. In fact, she is quite clever, charming, and creative. She's also fearful, and it's that fear that has made progress go so slowly. When working with her in the gentling pen or the round pen, she would express her fear by running in furious, mindless circles, which is not a good thing to do, especially while wearing a drag rope. Rather than pushing her hard and fast, I've been working to earn her trust, and it's been paying off consistently, in little bits at a time. By using pressure and release tactics, I've shown Belle that she doesn't need to blow up and nearly hurt herself whenever she gets afraid. She can calm down and listen to me now. That's a huge sign of progress, and it's what I needed to know before I could get back to business and move her forward in her training.
I'm the proud owner of a twelve-foot bamboo pole. I like the length of the pole, as it matches the amount of personal space that horses like to keep around themselves when they are checking out a visitor, whether horse or human. I've been using the pole to get closer to Belle, using it to move her forequarters and hindquarters effectively, using it to desensitize her to touch, and using it to pick up the end of the drag rope, which I can then grasp with my hand.
Sometimes, I can pick the rope up without help from the pole, but Belle has adopted the rope as part of her body, and she is very clever at positioning it just out of my reach. I see no reason to bend down and present my skull as a target for her hind end (never mind that she's never yet offered to kick...there can always be a first time), so the pole is useful for "fishing" the rope up to me. Belle actually likes this part of the game, and patiently waits while I get the rope up off the ground, slide it down the length of the pole, and into my hand. I like the game, too! As further evidence of how clever and creative Belle is, she somehow managed to tie a lovely knot in her rope, approximately two feet from the dragging end. I love the knot, because it gives weight to the rope in just the right place, and makes it much easier to pick up with the pole.
So, with the rope in my hand, I let Belle do circles around me until she is relaxed and breathing, then I start to apply pressure to her head. The other half of pressure is release, and I like to experiment with how much pressure I can apply before she needs her release. I start by squeezing my fist on the rope...release. Then a little wrist motion...release. Next, some elbow-bending...release. Belle's head turns towards me every time I exert pressure, and it returns to a straight position with every release. If I get greedy and ask for pressure plus more pressure without a release, she pulls the rope from my hand and spins away to her favorite corner. That's okay, though, because as she continues to learn I have to test her to see how far I can push ( or pull, in this case). I fish the rope up, then start again. This time, after the elbow-bending pressure, I use my whole body and step backwards in a straight line and expect her to move not just her head, but also her forequarters, toward me. She does, as long as I offer a release. This part of the game forces her to confront her fear, so I keep it brief and let her return to her comfort zone, then ask it again on the next lap. That way, she is allowed to build confidence without passing the threshold of her sanity, and we stay safe. I find a good note to quit on, and then we spend some quiet time together.
There is still a lot to look forward to with Belle, but I am enjoying working with her. I'm convinced that when she finally comes around she is going to be a heck of a nice horse. She sure is pretty, and so sweet too. Good things are in Belle's future, and I can hardly wait to show them to her.
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