48 Inches

They say some people miss entering heaven by 18 inches, that is, the distance from their head to their heart.  Those are the people who can't live on faith alone, and therefore never receive the abundant blessings that God wants to bestow on them.  They die without realizing that if they'd opened their heart to God and let Him show them the way to live, the struggles of daily life wouldn't have seemed insurmountable.  They die without ever knowing how wonderful it feels to let God take the reins and direct their life.

I guess Belle missed heaven by 48 inches, since the distance from a horse's head to her heart is much greater than a human's.  No, Belle isn't dead, but she has moved on, and she never got to experience the great things that I had planned for her.  I'm obviously not God, nor do I have a God complex, but I did have a plan for Belle, a direction for her life, and abundant blessings that I would have loved to have bestowed on her.  She was fed hay and grain, but she never got to graze in a lush green pasture.  She had a clean and dry area to spend her days in, but she never got to roll in the mud or wade in the gentle stream.  She had room to move around, but she never got to gallop across the huge, hilly field.  She had a pony for a friend, but she never got to run with the herd.  Belle had the basics, but she never had the blessings.

Belle had more belief in her own opinion of how life should be than she had for my knowledge of how life could be better.  She was willing to take basic sustenance from me, but never a feast.  She was willing to let me touch her, but just barely.  She would take my kisses, but she shunned my embrace.  She knew I was real, but she didn't have faith in me.  She could see the rainbow, but she didn't hear the promise.

Maybe it was my fault, maybe I tried too hard, or maybe it just wasn't meant to be.  I've had to take some time away from the barn to recover from a medical procedure that I had in January.  While planning for this time off, I contacted the wonderful gals at the BLM office in Oregon and asked if they could find another trainer to take Belle.  I knew that without daily interaction Belle would regress in her progress to become gentle, and I wanted the best for her, so I was hoping that someone would take the challenge and pick up where I left off.  Fortunately, a very experienced trainer in Oregon stepped up to the plate, and transportation was arranged for Belle.

It's been six weeks since Belle left.  Her new trainer describes her as "bold, but wanting to connect."  I hope that means there's a chance that Belle will put her whole heart, body and soul in the hands of her trainer.  I hope it means she'll live the life she was meant to live.  I hope it means that 48 inches isn't an uncrossable chasm.  And I hope she takes the leap of faith.

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'.

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!

Stardust

I've been enjoying the contact with Belle's hind end, but somehow it just isn't enough for me.  I'd much rather be at the front end, where bonding and training can flourish.  To that end, I've been pumping Belle full of carrots while gradually introducing hand-to-face contact.  It's a slow process (like everything is with Belle) because if I get even a little teenie tiny bit ahead of her comfort zone, she'll pout for days and not allow any new progress.  Yesterday, however, Belle was feeling generous and allowed me to pet her nose, jaw, and cheek while I allowed her to nibble bits of carrot from my hand.  I  played with her halter and the two feet of rope that still dangles from it.  I felt very encouraged!  Today, she let me lay my forearm on the front of her face while I vigorously scratched the loose hair and dust from her beautiful star.  My husband called it "Full Frontal Forehead Friction," which is clever, but I think I'll just call it Stardust.  It was a great moment, and hopefully one that I can build on.

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.

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. 

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!

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!

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?

A Spot of Snow

Beautiful, isn't it?

Such fun to play in!

River's nose makes a good snow shovel.

Ahh, just like Eastern Oregon!

Snow is so funny!

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.

Happy New Year!

It's been a wonderful year for me, full of blessings and lessons learned from these wonderful, beautiful, amazing mustangs.  I hope that your year was wonderful, too, and that the year ahead is even better.  All the best--Tricia & The Gentle Mustangs

Belle Has a Friend

I love ponies.  Just over a year ago, my husband talked me into adopting a little fuzz-ball Shetland pony for our kids to learn on.  He was a rescue pony that had been literally starved almost to death before he was seized from his owners by animal control.  He was placed in a wonderful foster home, where he was rehabbed and made ready for a permanent home.  We are that lucky home, and we adore him.  His name is Firecracker, but he is as gentle as can be and he loves to be ridden and fussed over by our children.

Well, enough about my family's pony.  Rick and I are neighbors, you know, and neighbors have to keep up with one another.  As soon as we brought Firecracker home, Rick decided that he and his wife should find a pony for their grandchildren.  So, the search began, and we found a wonderful little gelding named Woody.  He is the perfect babysitter pony and he loves to go on trail rides.  Actually, he loves everybody and everything.  And everybody loves him, too.  Including Belle.

Belle was weaned from her foal just a couple of weeks before she came here, and she was used to being with lots of other mares and foals for companionship.  Here, there are plenty of horses to talk to, sniff, and even do some mutual-grooming through the fence with, but I thought it would be nice if she had her own little buddy.

Woody was only slightly alarmed in the beginning.  That is a wild mustang don't ya know, and a mare to boot.  Yikes!  He is used to being at the bottom of the pecking order, so Belle can control him with just the slightest glance or movement of her ears.  No kicking or squealing for these two, thank goodness.  She lets him eat hay side-by-side with her, and they enjoy just hanging out together or strolling around the arena.

Pretty dog-gone cute together, aren't they?  Maybe I could teach Woody to pick up Belle's rope and bring her to me....and we could add Mustang Tamer to his resume.

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.

Damascus Road

Belle had an epiphany today.  She's been holding back her trust; building a wall between herself and me, and even though she seemed to recognize that I had some leadership potential, she's been unwilling to acknowledge that she needs my leadership.  I've been scratching my head, wondering if I should crank things up a notch in the round pen, or if I should give her more time to come around.  Well, I was in the mood for some honky-tonk today, so crank it up I did.  I needed to send Belle some of my energy, and I needed to see her really dig down and move. 

Until now, when working Belle in a circle, the only changes of direction I've gotten from her have been outside turns, where her head goes away from me and her butt points towards me.  Those kinds of turns aren't all bad, because they cause the horse to see me from first one eye, then the other.  But in order to get the connection that I'm working towards with Belle, she needs to give me inside turns, where the head turns towards me and the butt turns away.  How exactly does one teach a wild mustang working at liberty to turn towards the handler?  With energy and movement.  Lots of it, in Belle's case.  I used what Parelli calls a "carrot stick," which is a four-foot hollow fiberglass rod that has a four-foot cord attached to the end.  It is used to motivate a horse, and also to desensitize them to touch.  Today, motivation was the key, and just holding it away from my body and occasionally swinging it or snapping the end of the cord was enough to send Belle through the roof.

Galloping at full-tilt, bouncing off the round pen rails, Belle is a sight to behold.  I admit I felt a little bit sorry for her.  I guess you could call it tough love.  Nothing will ever change for the better without some exercise, right?  After several fast laps, and outside turns to change direction, I was ready to ask for some inside turns.  It all has to do with my body language, my position in relation to the horse, the "feel" between us, and finally the "draw," which is where she actually responds to me and turns inward.

The look on Belle's face when she came face to face with me was priceless.  It was one of those WOW moments for both of us.  Her eyes were bright and her ears were impossibly far forward, and if horses were capable of dropping their jaw, hers would've been on the ground.  That was her moment of epiphany.  I repeated the exercise over and over, and each time she responded correctly she was rewarded with a moment to stand still and look at me.  Each time she didn't respond correctly, she was made to keep working.  Belle took lots more steps towards me.  She didn't come up to me, so the connection isn't complete yet, but with another session like that one she will.  She believes me now.  I will be her leader, her trainer, and her master.  Before, I was the maid.  Oh, the changes that will take place soon.  I can hardly wait!

Clockwise

Moving Belle into the round pen today was a step in the right direction.  Literally, the right direction.  Her phobia of moving to the right, or clockwise, disappeared in the large, round space.  Rick and I set the round pen up just outside of the gentling pen, with two panels left wide open to form a chute, and with the help of a new friend who was visiting the mustangs today, it was easy to move Belle into it and close the panels behind her.

I gave Belle a few minutes to enjoy the view from her new position, then went in with her and put her to work.  Belle is still wearing her drag rope, but I haven't felt compelled to pick it up lately, since working at liberty is more rewarding at this stage of training.  Belle is very responsive to body language, so directing her movement was easy and a lot of fun.  Just slapping my arm against my thigh gets her going; no rope swinging or whip snapping is necessary for this girl.  For a full thirty minutes, Belle went round and round at a snappy, robust trot.  She's built like a hot rod, and watching that amazing body move was a real treat.  When changing directions, she hunkers down on her hindquarters and rolls the other way.  She's got some moves, that's for sure.  To the left, to the right, to the left again, back to the right, then whoa.  Look at me, Belle.  Good girl.  Look she did, but she could only muster the courage to take a couple of steps towards me.  I'm working hard to get a connection, to have her "hook up" or "join up" or whatever you want to call it.  She needs to want to be with me, to acknowledge me as her leader, so that I have her trust and respect.  Each time she looked away and withdrew into herself, I put her back to work doing circles.  The exercise gets tedious after a while, so I found a good note to quit on and stepped out of the round pen.

Belle watched me as I exited, and I noticed that she was tracking me with her whole body as I walked outside the pen, so I walked a couple of laps around it.  She stood in the middle, turned on her forehand, and kept her full face towards me as I moved.  It was a role-reversal, with her in the middle and me doing circles.  Not a good thing, but it was interesting.  After two laps, she figured out that she could just bend her neck around to keep one eye at a time on me.  I turned my back on her then and left her.

Belle blew her nose a few times, cocked a hip, and seemed quite content with herself.  She watched my friend and I as we brushed Capri and chatted for a while, and she continued to watch while I did my chores.  Later, Rick came out to the arena and asked how it went with Belle.  I went back in with her and played with her again, so that Rick could see, then asked him if he wanted a turn with her.  Well, of course he did!  He did well too, and was impressed with the progress that was made.  Tomorrow can only be better!

The Wheelbarrow Method

Okay, most of us have heard of the bamboo pole method of gentling mustangs, right?  Lay the pole on the horse's withers, wait until it stops having a hissy fit, then gently see-saw the pole back and forth to offer feel-good scratches, then touch the horse all over with the pole, then scoot yourself closer and touch the horse with your fingers.  Pretty soon you have a gentle mustang.  Or at least it's supposed to work like that.

Personally, I haven't had much luck with the pole.  I don't feel like it facilitates trust-building between me and the horse, but rather escalates fear responses.  Or maybe I just don't do it right.  In any case, Belle and I came up with our own method this evening.  I'd like to call it The Wheelbarrow Method.  Do I give the wild mustang a ride in my wheelbarrow?  No, I do not.  Do I hitch the wild mustang to my wheelbarrow and ask it to give me a ride?  No, of course not.  Do I push the wheelbarrow at a reasonable distance behind the wild mustang and ask it to walk in a lovely circle ahead of me?  Yes, I do!  And guess which direction I asked Belle to walk in?  Yes, to the right!  And she did!  Without blowing up!  We must've looked rather silly walking laps around the pen, but nobody was looking, so that's alright.

After a couple of easy laps, she wanted to stop and check me out, so I stepped out from between the handlebars, stood in the middle of the pen, and invited her to come to me.  She didn't come to me, but she looked at me with both eyes and held my gaze for several seconds.  This was a big improvement over the usual quick, one-eyed glance that she has been giving me.  When she lost interest in me and looked away, I put her back to work walking and trotting laps to the right, then when she was ready to check me out again I repeated my invitation for her to come to me.  Twice, she took tiny steps towards me.  That's the most I've gotten from her without holding the rope, so I was quite pleased.

Belle's eye was softer tonight, compared to the glassy-eyed stare that she usually has.  She made happy, relaxed, nose-blowing snorts, which was the first I've heard from her.  And, she let me stand very close to her outside of her pen while she ate her dinner, which was also a first.

Tomorrow, I'm going to get her in the round pen and put her to work.  I think if I can work her to the left and right, with lots of changes of direction, then I can get her mind engaged and really make some progress.  She's had two and a half weeks to get acclimated, and I think I've convinced her that I don't like the taste of horse meat, so let's get that girl busy, by golly.

A Very Nice Ride

With Belle's arrival, the finger-numbing cold, the soaking rains, and the Thanksgiving holiday, I've put Capri on the back burner in the last week.  Tonight, however, I carved out enough time to do more that just brush her and play with her; I saddled her up and hopped on for her fourth ride.  I started in the round pen, and she was great.  We went round and round at the walk, changed directions many times, enjoyed her huge, springy trot to the left and the right, backed up, and turned on the forehand both ways.  That could have been enough, but I knew she could do more, so we exited the round pen and I rode in the arena.  I didn't ask for anything too challenging, but she stepped out nicely and walked a straight line for two laps in each direction.  I kept her motivated to go past Belle's pen, and past the gate to her own paddock, and past the tie-up area, all with no problem.  I turned her around the barrels for a minute or two, then quit while I was ahead. 

Riding green horses is a lot of fun.  I use the lightest aids possible, and give Capri a chance to interpret my cues.  She gets it right most of the time, but on the occasion that I have to give a heavier aid and make my intent clear, I feel perfectly safe doing so.  Using lots of leg, bending her head around, tickling her butt with the end of my reins; none of that bothers her a bit.  Mounting and dismounting are effortless, and tonight I mounted without the block for the first time.  What a treat!

Belle continues to make small bits of progress.  Yesterday, I spent some quiet time with her in her pen, just slowly moving her around and talking to her.  When I left her, and was about 50 feet away from her, she whinnied to me.  I was surprised!  That was the first time she'd done that, so I approached her pen again and spent more time talking to her from outside, being careful to keep my posture non-threatening.  Today, she seriously considered taking alfalfa from my hand.  She's not quite brave enough yet, but perhaps soon she will be.  Perhaps tomorrow? 

It's The Little Things

Belle is starting to relax a bit, finally.  Last night, for the first time, she got brave enough to eat her hay while I was watching, and let me get within twelve feet of her before she stopped eating and took a couple of steps away from me.  I know it seems trivial, but it was really a huge indication that she is beginning to feel comfortable around me.  Until then, she wouldn't go near her feed if I was watching at all, even from a great distance.  In fact, most of the time she would stand with her right side against the wall and only give me the merest glance if I was talking to her.  Tonight, though, she willingly faced up to me with her ears forward and her eyes were soft and bright.  She let me see her right side...I was beginning to wonder if she had one!  Mustangs typically protect their right side, and when they loosen up and show it (and later let me touch it) it is a sure sign of letting down their guard.

When I was holding the end of the rope, Belle took side steps towards me when I asked her to, as long as I was moving too, so that she wasn't actually getting closer to me, but was moving with me.  Kind of like leading sideways.  I'll take what ever she'll give me right now, so that was just fine.  She also let me move towards her with my arm outstretched.  I played Pressure and Release with her, which helps her learn that she gets rewarded (the release is the reward) when she looks at me or moves towards me.  She has a strong flight instinct, but no fight, so as long as I stay out of her way when she bolts forward, I'm fine.  She's bolting less often now, and she's learned to settle down and listen when I ask her to stop.  She is a smart girl, and she is so Stinking pretty!

Working through the challenges is what makes training mustangs so rewarding.  We like to think of them as blank slates, but really they are less than blank, if there is such a thing.  They know nothing of us, but they do know how to survive and protect themselves.  They don't speak our language, so it is up to us to communicate with body language that makes sense to them.  It really is remarkable that we're able to not only convince them that we're not going to have them for dinner, but to forge a deep and lasting bond with them.  A bond that once earned, will never be revoked.  I feel like I'm firmly on the path now that will lead me to having a bond with Belle.  I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Eye of the Storm

Most, if not all, horses prefer going to the left.  There are explanations for this, mostly having to do with horses being right "handed". Without going to go into the nitty-gritty details of it, the simple fact is that we can usually ask a horse to go in a circle to the left, and they will.  When we ask them to change directions and go to the right, they usually put up a bit of resistance, so we push a little harder, and they go.  With consistent encouragement, they eventually learn to go willingly.  I enjoy pushing a horse and encouraging it to do it's best.  I also enjoy being alive.  Have you ever been in a twenty-four by twenty-four foot square pen with a fresh, wild mustang who has decided that going to the right is impossible?  Well, I have, just a couple of hours ago.  Who knew that a full-sized horse could gallop in such a tight space?  It looks something like this:

The mere thought of going to the right sends Belle into a tizzy.  She spins to the left and does several laps at top speed.  What do I do?  Well, I'm in the center, so I can make a mad dash for the rails and climb out, or I can just stay put and enjoy the show.  Belle has a strong flight instinct, but no fight that I've seen yet, so I actually feel pretty safe (although a bit dizzy) standing in the center and waiting for the storm to pass.

Every training issue needs to be addressed, but there is a time for everything, and this issue can wait until I've earned more trust with Belle.  She is making other progress that I am happy with, and she is usually  perfectly calm and willing to try her best.  In the meantime, it's good to know that she is an athlete who can really dig down and boogie!