Getting to Know Daisy

WEDNESDAY
Daisy clearly felt that humans were trouble. I wasn't sure exactly how tall she was, but she appeared to be around 16 hands high, and she expected to be given the right-of-way! Traditional methods would have a person putting a stud chain over her tender nose and jerking her around when she got into my space. Sadly, too often Left Brain Extrovert horses are viewed as annoying, bratty, argumentative, sneaky, annoying (yes, I mentioned that one twice, but they are very annoying sometimes). So they come in for more than their fair share of punishment.

But they can also be brilliant, loyal like no other, hilarious, clever, and can think for themselvesAND you,  if you are riding them and you find yourself in a really bad fix.

I sort of water-skiied with Daisy out to the small arena. It has a deep, sandy footing. Before long she knocked me with her big shoulder and down I went. She danced around me, as I rolled around to get to my feet. She never stepped on me and I do not believe she would have, no matter where I was laying. She is very aware of where her feet are.

Discouraged, I took her to a round pen and worked her there until she was sweating a bit. It was a warm day. By then she indicated by chewing and licking that she'd like to stop for a while.

Now that she was calmer, I took out the clicker and hung it on my little finger, ready when needed. I tried to get her to back up. It took quite a bit of pressure, starting with feather light and increasing until I was leaning on the rope. The instant she started to shift her weight I clicked the clicker and gave her a treat. And in that moment, her focus swung around from her surroundings and her own ideas to the concept that I had treats and was giving them out!

The next time I asked her to back up, it took less pressure on the lead rope and the third time she had got it. Now it only takes a feather light grasp and often she picks up on my intent before I ever pull back and she backs up.

Next, I attempted to walk her down the quarter rmile driveway to her 2 acre pasture. She was bored and eager to boogie, and I had a hard time with her. I took her back to the barn and reluctantly got a stud chain to limit her antics. That worked, but I felt very badly about having to resort to that, and determined to "lose the chain" as soon as possible. For now it was a safety necessity.

I tried to keep Daisy on the grass at the sides of the road because the gravel was painful to her feet. h=Her big, splayed feet were as dry as alligator skin and a chunk of her front hoof was just ready and waiting to fly off.

It took much circling and jockeying for position to get her to her pasture. She noticed the large stock tank of fresh, clean water first and took many enraptured gulps of the water. I let her loose and she thundered off, then dropped her neck to graze near her stablemate who was on the other side of the fence.

Daisy was now looking at me with interest. What a strange human! She wasn't sure I was for real, or would stay as reasonable as I appeared to be at the moment, but clearly, she was willing to see what I'd do next, since most of my actions had been agreeable to her.

The thought of going from where she was now, to being rideable and knowledgeable was intimidating. Could I do it? She'd had 11 years to become distrustful and disgusted with humans.