The next day I continued using the clicker in the arena. When Daisy first comes out of her stall and covered area, she is bored. Left Brain Extroverts are playful, no matter what their age. They are first class fidgits as well. They think of things that THEY want to do, which seem far more important and interesting to them than what humans are asking of them.
If you fight them with "traditional" methods, you will be fighting a non-ending war until the horse either dies, or you crush its spirit entirely. On the other hand, the option exists to have the horse want to bond with you and "join up." There's nothing like the fire and spirit of a Left Brain Extrovert, when they are bonded to you and have learned about our human communication signals. They love it when they feel smart and successful (and nothing is better for them than such feelings).
I was careful to exercise Daisy on the longe line, trying to drive her first one way then the other across the small arena. Going in a circle is tedious for the horse, and they can get into a mindless rut that exercises their body but not their mind.
I would slap the looped part of the longe line against my boot or leg and make clucking or kissing sounds. I'd drive her one way and then the other. For a while she had a light in her eyes, but the time came when it wasn't too amusing to her anymore. Then I put my arm down, palm out--a signal she had picked up on the second day. It means to come to me and I will give her a treat.
We worked on backing up. The expression in her eyes changed to a soft and trusting one. I got several touches of her soft nose on my skin--sort of like the "touch and goes" that flyers do when they land and go right back into the air again. A brief sort of thing, but it was reaching out to me.
Unfortunately, she was very, very fond of success and treats. So much so that when I wanted to walk to her neck, then to her withers and barrel area, she would scoot around to face me, then back up enthusiastically.
Since punishment and/or chastisement takes the willingness out of a Left Brain Extrovert (LBE), I would smile and say in amusement, "Oh you funny girl. You have to do a trick to get a treat!" And I'd walk her forward, then I'd try again.
I'm finding that if I touch her mane and stroke her as I make my way along her side from the front, she is less likely to want to back up. When I face her head, eye balls to eyeballs, she wants to back up because that was where I was standing when she first learned that "trick."
So now I will be working with her backing up with a fence along her right side, to keep her straight. She wants my "business end" to be kept near her mouth at all times for easy asccess (giggle).
Horses don't know all the English words that we know and use, but they are gifted empaths, and when we speak, often we will project mental images of what we are talking about and horses pick up on those. Some things are too "pie in the sky" for them to know about, like finances, and so on, but the basics they often get.
I tell Daisy that she is beautiful (she is--she's a chestnut and white paint with halos around the outsides of the chestnut parts, some roaning, and black in her mane and tail). I tell her that she is extremely intelligent. Very smart. My attitude towards her is amusement and love. If she doesn't want to join me in a new "trick" or "game" I switch to doing something else. What she will remember more than "I got my way" is the battle. It's important not to lend any more weight to the negative experiences that she's already experienced. She needs to feel like a winner.
She has had to think for herself, and all those years in a pasture with other horses taught her how to think like a horse. She reminds me of a mustang. She thinks for herself, feels that being isolated from her herd (even if the "herd" consists of one puny human) is a death sentence, and she is very careful where she puts her feet. She's sure-footed in the extreme. She understands the herd mentality and knows how to make herself the alpha mare in horse language.
Yet despite all this, Daisy has a good and loving heart. I think some people under-estimate many horses' desires to please humans. Daisy wants to feel successful and wants my approval. No self-respecting horse will immediately and implicitly trust a human. I am working to be consistent and to build her trust in me.
I got a couple of unexpected surprises with Daisy---she is afraid of the longe whip (the cord on it) and of Hoof Flex. Her hooves were scaly and incredibly dry from running around in mud all winter. The mud, when it dries, sucks the moisture out of hooves. Just like working in damp dirt in your garden--your hands will be very dry that night.
Daisy wanted to inspect the brush with Hoof Flex on it. She got a good whiff and her eyes rolled in fear. It was obvious as she pranced nervously on the lead rope that she knew good and well what that stuff was. I was told that she had sustained an infection in one of her feet last winter (no wonder, considering the conditions she was kept in). They must have applied Hoof Flex or a similar smelling product to that sore foot. I got the feeling from her expression that it had burned. Imagine having a sore, inflamed hand and putting something on it that burns like fire. No fun!
I do not tie Daisy up very short. If she cannot move about a bit, her anxiety level will go through the ceiling. No one can learn when they are building up a head of steam composed of fear or anxiety.
She can move back and forth a bit, around the post she is tied to. I let her feet move around, which is like letting the steam out of a pressure cooker to lower the pressure inside. Each day I've been able to do her feet, by standing and watching her walk around, talking to her quietly, and when she stops, I bend down and daub some of the stuff on her hoof, commenting that it doesn't hurt a bit, does it.
She gets a click and a treat each time that I finish a hoof. Her faith in treats is so implicit that this is proving to get us over several hurdles, albeit slowly.
Daisy is also fearful of the "business end" of the longe whip. Today I was able to talk on the phone and rub her with the whip because my focus was elsewhere. When folks have whipped her, they (obviously) have made her the central focus. As she stood and I chatted, I would reach into the fanny pack and get her a treat. She didn't need the clicker--that wasn't necessary at this time.
Another "boogey man" is the spray bottle of 50% Skin So Soft and 50% water. All insects seem to feel that Skin So Soft is certain death to them and I believe that it is. The smell is enough to wake the dead though. And she is a stranger to squirt bottles with the scary "whoosh, whoosh."
Everything that does not work has to be broken down into bite-sized pieces. So instead of squirting her, I squirted some on a small rag and let her sniff it. She looked at me like, "Surely you do not intend to put that smelly stuff on me!" More nervous walking around and fidgiting.
So I put some on ME. And will continue to do so, not only for the massive mosquito population around there (yes, I realize they can carry Lyme Disease) but so that she starts to associate the smell with me (her loving "Mama") and treats. I had some of the smelly stuff on my left hand, so she got that with the carrot piece. Over time, she will start to associate the smell with me and treats, and will de-sensitize to it.
Since The Friendly Game comes first in the Parelli 7 Games, that's what I'm doing a lot of. I'd like to walk her places, as she gets bored easily, however her hooves will need some sort of protection first,(either shoes or booties) to keep the gravel roads from chewing up her feet.
I do some Porcupine Game on her to start her on the concept of moving AWAY from pressure, instead of towards it. Most horses move TOWARDS pressure and have to learn to do it "backwards" for them. So much of what we teach our horses requires THEM, not us to bridge the gap in the differences between horse and human!
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