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.
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