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. 

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.

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!