Reflecting on the week of 9/11

Ten years ago today was September 15, 2001. It was the day I picked up my mare, Candy, at the Parelli Ranch in Pagosa Springs, Colorado. It was also four days after the 9/11 attacks on our country. Diana and I had planned the trip for months, but suddenly the world had been turned upside down. Like everyone else, we struggled to process what had happened and what it meant for the future.

At first it was unthinkable to tend to everyday matters, but as the days crawled by, people not directly affected by the attacks began trying to put a little normalcy back into their lives. For us, that meant going to get two new horses.

Signs of patriotism were everywhere, especially along old highway 666 in western New Mexico, where American flags flew proudly and Navajo women gave away swatches of red ribbon from their roadside jewelry stands. At the Parelli Ranch, the mood was somber, but it was good to be with our friends and fellow horse lovers. The next day, with new horses in tow, Diana and I headed for our home in Phoenix. Dark skies and pounding rain gave the drive a surreal quality and made conversation nearly impossible. Neither of us felt much like talking, anyway.

It has taken ten years for me to feel fully connected to Candy. I suppose I could have pressed the issue but somehow that didn’t feel right. The depth of the relationship we have now was worth the wait. I enjoy this beautiful, sweet horse every day, and never far from my mind is the memory of our first week together. It’s a bittersweet memory for me, but I want to keep it alive. It’s important to remember how that week felt.

Hand-feeding Treats - Part 2

I have mentioned several times a game that we play with our horses that reinforces the right way to receive a food treat. We call the game, “Pretend you don’t want it.” I’ve been asked to explain it in print, so here goes. I’ll use my mare, Candy, in the example.

I have Candy in a rope halter with a lead rope so I have a measure of control over her. I step in front of her and ask her to stand quietly and look at me from a respectful distance. I hold the treat up, say her name and make sure she is looking straight at me. Then I say, “pretend you don’t want it.” She swings her head around to one side, almost looking at her tail. I say, “good girl!” and give her the treat. (Going away from food is not instinctive to a horse. It must be learned. We also require our horses to back up at feeding time, but that’s another story.)

Teaching this game is no different than teaching any other cue. You reward the slightest try, and each time you expect a little more. You give her time to think about it between attempts, and you find a good note to end on. Don’t expect her to learn this perfectly the first day and don’t repeat it too many times. Better to work on it a little every day. Final tip: she will start anticipating you, meaning she will start swinging her head around before you’ve asked for it. Do not reward that! We don’t want to reward a horse for anticipating our cues, even if it’s to do something good.

Oh, yes – and this goes back to the actual technique of hand-feeding the treat – Candy is not allowed to move her feet toward me to collect her treat. I reach toward her and she stretches her neck out to gently take the treat from the palm of my hand.