I was going to write about yesterday evening, when we fenced off the front yard, as we often do about this time each year, so we can utilize horses to do some mowing for us while at the same time acclimating them to the growing brilliant green carpet of grass.
Keil Bay and Apache Moon took their turn first, while I did some pruning and kept them company. They worked their way from the top of the side yard all the way down to the very front edge, and I watched in the usual wonder at how expertly efficient Keil Bay is in grazing. He has it down to a fine art.
They neither one wanted to leave when their 15 minutes were up, so my husband marched up to the barn for halters and the dressage whip so I could do a little driving from behind. I didn't need the tapping of the whip; once the halter was on, I got Keil's attention off the grass and onto me, and we practiced walking, halting, my verbal invitation to return to grazing, my request for head up, and more walking. This was one of those moments that was perfect for reviewing basic leading manners.
The pony defied a couple of attempts to halter him, but once I had Keil Bay back up to the barn, he came trotting up the hill after us, looking like a movie star pony, head held high and body floating across the grass.
This morning my daughter and I were getting horses and donkeys ready for the day. They all seem to enjoy having fly masks on this time of year - those gnats and midges that go for the ears are out in full force. So Keil Bay, Cody, and the pony got their masks, and daughter went out to search for Salina's. When she came back she decided to put on Rafer Johnson's mask (his doesn't have ears, as the donkeys don't seem much bothered by bugs, but he likes the mask during the sunny days - I think of it as his sunglasses).
Redford never wanted his earless mask last year, just as he doesn't want any fly spray, so instead of forcing the issue, we simply offer, and when he says "no thank you" we let him be.
Much as learning to read in humans seems to be something that comes easily when the child is ready to learn, there seem to be moments when equines make learning leaps. Things that were scary suddenly seem fine, and if you're paying attention and make the most of these moments, you can save a lot of stress for both the equine and yourself.
This morning Redford was offered his fly mask, yet again, as he was many times last summer. Today he decided that even the sound of the velcro being undone was not scary, and that he'd take his mask just like everybody else in the barn. No fuss, no hard work. It was just as easy as if he'd been doing it his entire life.
There are lots of things that horses and donkeys need to learn to be what we consider "good citizens," but many of these skills are pushed not because they're absolutely necessary but because of our own human timetables that often make no sense.
Much like reading is pushed because of the agenda of the school systems and the need to get children "on the same page" at the same time.
I've advocated for a more laid back, individualized structure for children for my entire adult life, but since returning to the world of keeping horses I now find myself advocating for the same thing for them.
When we learn something when we're physically AND psychologically ready for it, the lesson is easier, and it sticks.
