Bubbles

As a teacher who currently works with a number of significantly disabled young adults (18+), one of my many roles is teaching students how to maintain personal space. Body language can be particularly challenging for certain folks, especially those who may face some spectrum-related challenges. Thus, the teachers I work with and I use pictures, create role-plays and also come up with verbal and physical cues to remind students when they are too close and to prompt them to give others personal space. The hope is to help them to develop an understanding of that personal space (or what we call “your bubble”) so that when they go out in the world they avoid the dangers that come along with invading someone else’s bubble (even innocently) as such can have disastrous consequences. Stick with me. This is not unrelated to my work at the barn today.

First, though, in my excitement yesterday, I forgot to secure the chain latch on the mustang pen. This morning, Maranda, who works at the ranch, found my new shaggy friend hanging out near one of the other paddocks, having freed himself at some point in the middle of the night. He wanted to make friends, apparently. She had him confined and Sean was able to walk up to him, catch him and lead him back in and both he and Maranda gave me a pass for my carelessness. It won’t happen again. Needless to say, when I arrived today he was back where he should be in what seems to be his default position, eyes closed, standing in the sunlight.

I had spoken to Sean earlier in the day and asked what I should work on since I assumed I would be on my own for the first time. We decided together that I would simply work on haltering, his getting used to being brushed and some leading. My biggest concern in all this is that I will somehow, in my naivete to the process, undo the progress we make with training or react in such a way that makes the horse fearful. I want to establish in him a healthy respect and not fear and I can describe to you what this might look like, but applying it in context is a different story. We are both learning. That said, I want to be able to do continue the work we do with Sean when I come myself so I can really be a part of the process.

I was able to halter him easily (a first for me with this guy) and we walked without incident from his pen over and into the arena. He is still a little skeptical of being inside (what is the point of a ceiling anyway?) but we explored and he was really brave as we approached the hanging tarp curtains, which always remind me of the yip-yip Martians from the Muppets, so of course they are super creepy-- all the other random things on the sidelines of the space like chairs and windows and the random sounds of dogs barking and horses anticipating their dinner in the barn hallway. As we walked around I noticed he was getting close to me and I tried to use some of the techniques I have learned to back him up, but he was not getting the message. This was my fault as I knew I was not saying it clearly enough, but truthfully I was afraid of being too “clear” and having him react.

After a little bit Sean came in and joined us and we spent about 20 minutes getting the gelding to back up, then move forward, then change direction and move forward again. (This will be a theme we touch on again and again for at least forever.) Dani was there two and both she and Sean talked about the importance of maintaining space with mustangs--even sweet ones like mine. It may be alright for other horses (read domestic ones) follow closely when leading, but given the potential for a strong reaction to just about anything from a mustang (mostly due to lack of understanding on his part) it is good to have about 6 ft of safe space when leading and it’s best that when you stop, they stop as well, maintaining that buffer of space. In keeping with his puppyish nature, my horse-dog wouldn’t have that; he clearly prefers to be close by and it took a great deal and some grand gestures for me to get my point across. I am getting it though, and I am slowly (Sean might qualify that with a “VERY”) gaining the confidence I am going to need to do these things on my own. It’s just the lack of truly knowing how this little guy will react to different pressures that keeps me cautious.

Once we got a little better at leading, stopping and space, we headed into the round pen for a short session moving around the circle. Again, I was learning how to push his shoulder out (he spirals in) and to keep him moving not-at-all gracefully, but still forward, on the circle. Though super bumpy, I still call the afternoon a real success for both of us. Small successes, sure. But that is the way this is going to work for at least the foreseeable future.

Last but not least, Sean was able to pick all four of the gelding’s feet up. Again, not beautiful, but honestly (and I am embarrassed to say this) he was almost better than Rory (my 12-year-old retired draft cross); he’s a little more delicate about his dancing around (Rory more leans in, bulldozes and sighs). For this young one, it seems like feet are not going to be an issue.