I have an audience for my work with Matilda. I've noticed all these horses coming and watching us. Is it just me or are these stares somewhat judgmental?
I was at the barn Thursday and Friday this week and this will be a summary of both days.
We are still working on Matilda learning her first word, "touch". Thursday was a bit of a mess with no clear progress made. My difficulty was waiting for that moment of focus.
When you work with dogs and they learn a few behaviors and tricks, quite often they will reach a point where they offer every behavior they know, unasked for, in order to get a reward. There are many times when my girls see a treat in my hand and start giving me their paws, barking, twirling and laying down in a "dead dog" posture while I just stand there and watch. Eventually, the dog gives up, sits and looks at you with a big sigh as if to say, "Fine, what do you want?!" At this point I can ask for something and give the reward, but I try to never give a reward for a behavior that I haven't asked for, even if it's the one I wanted.
This has not been the case with Matilda. She never gives up. Neh-ver. That constant motion goes on and on. I watched the head swing back and forth, watched her back up and walk forward, nose, nudge and chew on the target. My heart bled for Matilda as she tried everything she could think of to get those tiny pieces of carrot. She even mastered the quivering lower lip; I started to look for and expect a tear from that eye. oy.
I tried to wait for a moment of stillness that I could speak into, but it just didn't seem to come. My own impatience got the better of me that day and there was no real communication between us. I had to realize my own inconsistencies in trying to push this exercise. If I could manage to be truly consistent, she might have gotten this faster. As I left the barn on Thursday, I considered simply moving on to something more interesting and, on the surface, relevant. I felt like I had spent a significant amount of time beating my head against a brick wall and was beginning to wonder why I was spending so much time on this one, silly thing.
On my drive home, however, I came to an understanding with myself. This is about much more than simply touching a target with your nose or even understanding a word. This is about Matilda understanding focus, paying attention, listening, waiting for me to ask her for a behavior and, God forbid, thinking. I simply can't give up. Then I thought of a new idea that could help Matilda and me understand what is supposed to be going on.
On Friday I reversed my tactics. Matilda was much less interested in my person and my carrot pail (YAY!); she was obsessed with the target. SO today I began by clicking when she left the target alone. Over our time together, this morphed until I was only clicking when she took 2-5 steps back (which we had worked on earlier: thumbs up!) and looked at me.
Sidebar: It's hard to tell when a horse is looking at you. There is a little guessing involved. This is especially true of Matilda, whose ears rarely flick forward.
Once she was backing up and giving me her attention consistently, I added a second click for not moving forward right away. When she was consistently holding that position, a few steps back, I said, "Matilda, touch." She tried a bunch of stuff, backing up some more, touching the carrot pail and my hand, before she touched the target but she did it.
We continued on with that pattern. I clicked for both backing up and giving me her attention and for nosing the target after I asked her. This has been an incredibly slow process, but I do believe it is an important one. Matilda continued to expend a lot of energy moving around randomly, but things improved as the day went on. I found that I was able to create that moment of stillness and I think we are on the right track. I wish I could say, "She got it! We're done with this!" Alas, that is not the case but I think I finally got the method correct and we are actually moving forward.
In our break time together, we are simply building trust. Matilda doesn't trust me and I don't understand her. Between Thursday and Friday, I found out that she prefers a quick, light stroke, as if I were brushing her (imagine that!) rather than any kind of constant contact. She was not comfortable with me touching her anywhere but on her haunches on Thursday. She would turn her head and make a nipping motion at me if I tried anything else. By the end of Friday, using the short brush stroke with my hands, I was able to move from her haunches all the way up to her withers (the base of her neck) before she let me know that she was uncomfortable . At one point she let me rub circles on her sides and perhaps even enjoyed it. Trust is earned and I am certainly paying my dues here.
She won't walk with me as much during our breaks, she prefers standing close to wherever I throw the pail and target stick over the fence. I can only assume she is waiting for me to get back to work. Occasionally I like to squat close to the ground (not recommended, by the way), intentionally making myself a little vulnerable, so that she can check me out comfortably. I have been surprised to find her even more gentle with me in these moments.
Looking back, I can see that there is a lot of cautious give and take between us. It's only been a couple of weeks since we started working together so the caution is a necessary evil. I know it will get better. I love to walk next to my own horse with my hand resting on her back or neck, feeling her movement. I am impatient to find that moment with Matilda, but every time I try she lets me know very clearly "not yet." I will keep trying though.
One last thing that I have added, I have started clicking and inserting the word "come" when she approaches me as soon as I enter the paddock. Teaching her to come when called is on the to do list, so why not? This seemed like a logical start. On Friday, when I came into the paddock to give her the "we're done" apple, she took a couple of steps towards me and stopped, quite a distance away, and looked at me. I didn't have the target stick, but said "Matilda, come" and she began to approach me very slowly. When she was about half way to me, I clicked and tossed her the apple.
A happy accident? Probably, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
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