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. 

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.

Capri's Tale

Some of my loyal readers (you know who you are...and I appreciate you very much) might be wondering what is going on with Capri.  She was gentled and found a home, right?  Well, right.  And then not.  The family that adopted her experienced a couple of major life changes, and then the discovery was made that the final adoption paperwork was never processed.  So, it turned out that Capri was never officially adopted by that family, and she was returned to me.

In the six weeks that she was gone, Capri was turned out with other mares and found herself at the bottom of the pecking order.  In the horse world, each horse in a group falls into a certain order of hierarchy.  The horse at the top controls the hay pile, and the ones who fall lower in the order may not get enough to eat, and will probably get picked on.  Unfortunately, that was the case with Capri.  She lost a significant amount of weight, which, after two weeks of being back here, she is still trying to put back on.  She also had obvious hoof marks on her hindquarters from being kicked by the other mares.  She was dirty and dull-looking, with a build-up of loose hair in her coat.  The sparkle was gone from her eyes, her head hung low, and her hip bones were showing.  When she stepped out of the trailer, I really wasn't sure it was Capri.  I honestly had to look at her markings several times to be certain.  Where was the proud mustang?  The outgoing, the-world-is-my-oyster-and-I-am-the-queen mare?  Had she vanished?  No.  Thankfully, after an hour of grooming, cooing, petting, playing, and feeding her treats, the old Capri was reappearing.  There was a glimmer of sparkle in her eyes.  She knew she was home with the people who love her, in a comfortable place where she never experienced fear or pain.

Within a couple of days, the shine was starting to return to Capri's coat.  She has been home for two weeks now, and she is her same old sweet self.  She even has a new stall with a paddock, which she thinks is just peachy.  I've saddled her a couple of times, and put weight in the stirrups, and trotted her around the barrels on a line.  She seems to be nearly ready for her first ride, and I'm hoping to accomplish that soon.  You all will be the first to know how that goes!

I've saved the best news for last.  You remember Rick, right?  He's my neighbor, my friend, my employer, and the owner of the barn where I am blessed enough to be able to train mustangs.  Well, he and his wife love Capri as much as I do, and they were deeply disturbed by the condition she was in when she returned here.  They decided that perhaps it would be best if they adopted Capri.  So, the check has been written and the paperwork has been mailed, and very soon Rick will have the final adoption papers in hand.  How's that for a good deal?  I get to keep training Capri, and Rick and his wife get to enjoy her.  That's what I call a happy ending.  Or is it a happy new beginning?

A Busy Mustang

Capri, the lovely lady mustang, has been busy lately.  Her world has been expanding, so that when she is adopted and goes to her new home, she will already know that the world is her oyster and she is the queen wearing the pearls.

 Capri, busy meeting a new friend

Capri, busy learning to play ball

Capri, busy learning to work with a saddle and bridle

Capri, busy learning to stuff her face with green grass while bouncing around the pasture and staying away from the horse-zapping fence.

Such a busy mustang deserves a treat.  Don't you agree?

Getting Groomed

Working Capri with my own 15 foot rope is so much more productive than using the 8 foot drag rope that she came with.  My rope is obviously much longer, which gives me and Capri more confidence.  We can get close to each other or farther away, and she is able to move freely on a longer rope.  My rope is soft in my hand, and it is clean because it hasn't been dragged through the pee and poo for a couple of weeks the way her drag rope was.

Because of the confidence inspired by the longer rope, and Capri's new love of carrots and peppermint treats, I was able to groom her yesterday.  I started by scratching her neck more vigorously than I had before, which she really enjoyed, then I picked up the extra-soft finishing brush and groomed her entire left side with it, including her face, belly, butt, and lower legs.  She is squeamish about me being on her right side, so I just brushed what I could reach of it while standing on her left.  Capri was trying hard to relax, but needed the reassurance of familiar petting and scratching every few minutes, then I could go back to brushing.  When her body was clean and shiny, I went to work on her mane using a large, round mane and tail brush.  She had one extra-large witch's knot half-way down her mane where her itchy spot is.  I've observed her scratching that spot with her rear hoof, which was the cause of the snarl.  Multiple ropes of hair combined to make this huge beast of a knot, and I couldn't quite work it out on my own, so I sprayed Laser Sheen all over, under, and through it.  She was fine with that, so I sprayed the rest of her mane, too.  By this time she was enjoying herself and really seemed grateful for all of the attention.  What pretty girl wouldn't?  With the Laser Sheen loosening up the snarls, I was able to work everything out with my fingers.  As I did, I noticed that the hairs on the very inside of the snarl were a strange gray color, which turned out to be dust, or possibly sand, from the wilds of Oregon.  When I undid the last of the tangles, the hair released this dust in a small puff.  At the same time, Capri released a heavy sigh, as if she was letting go of her old wild self and letting her new, domestic self take over.   I brushed her forelock, too, and removed a snarl there that had been driving me nuts.  Her tail is horribly tangled, really a solid mass, so I am saving that project for a day in the near future.

Horses who have been putting up with me for a while know that I insist on them letting me give them hugs and kisses.  My own gelding, Louie, raises his face to mine automatically every night after I give him his grain so that I can give him a smooch on the soft place between his muzzle and his cheek.  River is learning, too.  But Capri knew nothing of hugs and kisses until last night.  Once she was groomed, and we'd played with the rope a bit, learning to lead, back up and return, and yield the hindquarters in both directions, I was so pleased with her that I just couldn't help myself.  I had to give that precious horse a hug and a kiss.  And you know what?  She let me!  A gentle squeeze around her neck, then two little kisses on her closed eyelid, to seal our new partnership.  Such a sweetie-pie, and so incredibly beautiful, is Capri.

She Likes Carrots!

I've been putting chunks of carrots in Capri's hay, hoping that she would develop a taste for them.  At first she avoided them, but eventually she began to nibble on them.  Today she ate four large pieces that I left on her afternoon flake.  This pleased me, so I offered her pieces from my hand.  Apparently that pleased her, because she gobbled up a whole bunch and asked for more!  I played with her halter and rope while she munched on her carrots, and she looked very happy and relaxed.  Later, she let me pet her muzzle for several seconds, with the only reward being the petting itself and sweet talk from me.  We're definitely turning that corner!

First Nicker

I believe we turned a corner today.  The last couple of days I've felt stuck, stymied, and seriously plateaued in my efforts with Siesta.  Not that she'd done anything too naughty or scary lately, but it just felt like kicking things up a notch was the wrong thing to do. I've been making small progress with her.  Yesterday I could touch most of her face and halter with one hand while she munched on carrots from the other hand.  I could even touch the bottom ring of her halter, where the lead rope is supposed to be, and give it a little jiggle and tug.  But that's all she would let me do, and it felt like she was still protecting herself from me.

Today, however, was different.  Siesta nickered at me for the first time today.  She wasn't hungry, not for food, but I believe she was hungry for interaction.  What a sweet sound!  I noticed her watching me closely while I cleaned the other horses' stalls, which isn't unusual for her, but today she did it with softer eyes, as if she was wishing for me to come to her.

I didn't use any treats at all today, no carrots, no cookies, and no hay fed from my hands.  My interactions with her were focused on pressure and release, or approach and retreat, as it's also called.  While cleaning her pen, my focus was on keeping her moving on her side of the pen, while I held my feet still and quietly cleaned with efficient, deliberate movements.  Whenever she approached my space, I flapped my elbows like chicken wings and asked her to back up.  And she did!

Later, when I returned to Siesta's pen to have a training session with her, the pen was completely devoid of any food or bedding (she counts straw as food--go figure).  Before entering the pen, I held a lunge whip in front of her and asked her to "touch it".  She loves touching objects, so this was no problem.  I offered verbal praise only; no cookies today.  I entered the pen and used the lunge whip to direct Siesta into forward motion.  She responded willingly, but stopped in her favorite corner the first two times around.  With only a little encouragement, she resumed forward motion and I was able to ask her to change directions several times successfully.  Some of her turns were away from me, and some were towards me.  At no time did she buck, threaten me with her hiney and hooves, or get worked into a tizzy.  She was good.  Really, seriously good.  After just a couple of minutes I allowed Siesta to stop, and I watched her eyes soften, and she licked and chewed.  I offered verbal praise, then turned my body at an angle to hers, and invited her to join me.  And she did!

Never has it been so hard to quit on a good note.  I was overjoyed, wanting to throw my arms around her neck and cry, but I settled for blowing her a kiss, telling her thank you, and politely leaving her to herself.  I feel like I have more to build on now, and I'm guessing that one day very soon she'll be ready to be touched with a bamboo pole, and then she'll learn to enjoy being petted and scratched by hand.  From there I believe that progress will snowball, and I'll soon have a gentle mustang.  Thank you Siesta!

Treats!

Yesterday Siesta ate carrots from my hand, with me standing outside of her pen.  The carrots were slender and sweet, and she took dainty little nibbles from them, like a princess-in-training at tea.  Her expression made me wonder if she really enjoyed them, or if she was just trying to please the weirdos on two legs.  Today, however, she thoroughly enjoyed them.  In fact, she gobbled them greedily from my hands, one after another.  And guess what else?  She loves little peppermint cookies!  She takes them right from the palm of my hand, from outside or inside the pen.  She actually walked up to me for cookies!  Soon she'll let me scratch her on the neck for a cookie, then she'll let me snap a new rope on her halter for a cookie, and then she'll stand on her head....no, wait, just kidding, but I am really, really happy about this.  Bribery does indeed get us almost anywhere.