Some of you may remember that at the end of 2007 I took on a rescue Curly gelding that was headed to an auction (and from there, you can only imagine). He had issues about most things, (from loading in a trailer, handling his feet, taking a bit in his mouth, most interaction with humans). I sorted this out with a combination of clicker training, effectively directed energy and clarification about boundaries and my space (vs his space).
The short version is that he was one unhappy guy, but basically a nice horse underneath all of his bluff and bluster. I’ve been accused of anthropomorphism in the past and I’m happy to say that doesn’t bother me in the least, because I believe that animals have a much greater capacity for emotion than most humans credit them. They may not express it in a way that’s obvious to us, but I don’t believe humans have cornered the market on feeling.
Back to Cal: I always learn from every horse and the bigger the challenge, the more I learn. One of the things that I got out of this experience was an awareness of an aspect of the inner workings of the human mind.
Once I felt he was ready to be rehomed, I took a series of videos of Cal: Cal being tacked up; Cal under saddle; Cal seeing a giant umbrella for the first time; & Cal walking over and wearing a tarp). One of the more valuable lessons I learned from the videos is that in MY MIND he still made aggressive overtures and my memory held visions of him at his worst. I had to see the videos to realize how far he had really come. When working with him I would see a flash of ears back out of the corner of my eye and my mind would fill in with the worst behavior I remembered. Not so… the flashes of ears back were few and far between, and only a couple in all the videos I did of him. Once again, I proved that my own sensors don’t always give an accurate read.
There is a name for this phenomenon: Fundamental Attribution Error. When humans interpret the behavior of others, we often make a particularly human mistake. We tend to attribute too much to character and disposition and too little to situation and context.
So, how does this fit into a training blog? Simple. How many times have we all heard remarks such as “My puppy chewed the leg of the couch out of SPITE!”. Or “My dog peed on the floor to get back at me for leaving him home alone! “ Or “My horse won’t stand still when I mount when we’re away from home, just to make me look foolish.” Or “My horse won’t load in the trailer at the end of a show day just to make me crazy!”
In fact, in many cases, the animal does what it does without any personal affront intended. The puppy is bored, and there was that nice couch leg tempting him to see if it was tasty. The dog pees on the floor because… well, it has to pee and no one is there to let it outside. The horse won’t stand still for mounting away from home because it’s nervous or anxious or just needs more training or help relaxing (or both). The horse won’t load because he’s tired and just doesn’t want to exert the energy to maintain his balance in that long trailer ride home. None of these are personal afronts, but humans often take things personally, seeing what we want to see or seeing what we normally see instead of the reality of what is actually happening.
Back to Cal’s story… During Cal’s rehab, I did struggle with feeling his ugly faces and aggressive posturing were personal. After all, I had never done anything to inspire all that, had I? Lesson One for me: I had to see him for what he was, which was a product of his past, he was conditioned to react to humans by keeping them at a distance with his expressions and posturing. It had nothing to do with me personally.
Lesson Two (for me): Considering Cal’s past and defenses, I expected to see a “glass half empty” attitude, so that’s what I saw. Once he began to profit from our rehab work and show a more “glass half full” attitude, I had to not only see how he was changing but also stop focusing so much on the flickers of negativity and see the big picture of how he was blossoming into a new horse.
This came to light when I was watching videos I had created for a potential new home for Cal. I had wanted anyone that might be interested in sharing their life with him to get the full picture, so I created a series of long dull, uncut videos that would show the extent of his ugly faces and how the expressions would come and go. In reality, when I watched the videos, there were only a few flickers of attitude and long stretches of engaged, cheerful, cooperative Cal. Yet during the actual making of the videos, my mind focused on the few moments of attitude and basically not the prolonged periods of pleasant interaction.
The bottom line is that I saw what I expected to see, which was attitude and it felt much more frequent than it really was. My expectations didn’t allow me to notice how infrequently the “attitude” surfaced. I saw what I expected to see.
Sometimes it’s hard not to see what we expect to see, whether that means seeing something better than it is or worse than it is. Reality can be a hard pill to swallow at times, and at other times, it’s a welcome bit of good news!
I did rehome Cal and I’m happy to say that not only did I learn a lot about rehabbing difficult cases from him, he learned a lot about giving humans another chance from me.
The best news is that Cal is not only in a great home but here’s an excerpt the latest email I got from his new human:
“Cal is simply wonderful. You were right when you saw something under all that bluster. He's still funny old Cal with those ears but he's SO willing and he SO wants to do the right thing. In fact, the only mistakes being made in this relationship are mine. I absolutely love him to bits!!!
I've learned to be much much lighter with my hands and ride with a loose rein most of the time. He's a lot of fun to ride. Last week it even warmed up enough for us to leave the arena and ride up the road and through the trainer's bush and fields - the snow was up to their bellies and Cal just plowed through it. Such a good boy! Have I mentioned that I love him?”
May all horses in need be so lucky!
The short version is that he was one unhappy guy, but basically a nice horse underneath all of his bluff and bluster. I’ve been accused of anthropomorphism in the past and I’m happy to say that doesn’t bother me in the least, because I believe that animals have a much greater capacity for emotion than most humans credit them. They may not express it in a way that’s obvious to us, but I don’t believe humans have cornered the market on feeling.
Back to Cal: I always learn from every horse and the bigger the challenge, the more I learn. One of the things that I got out of this experience was an awareness of an aspect of the inner workings of the human mind.
Once I felt he was ready to be rehomed, I took a series of videos of Cal: Cal being tacked up; Cal under saddle; Cal seeing a giant umbrella for the first time; & Cal walking over and wearing a tarp). One of the more valuable lessons I learned from the videos is that in MY MIND he still made aggressive overtures and my memory held visions of him at his worst. I had to see the videos to realize how far he had really come. When working with him I would see a flash of ears back out of the corner of my eye and my mind would fill in with the worst behavior I remembered. Not so… the flashes of ears back were few and far between, and only a couple in all the videos I did of him. Once again, I proved that my own sensors don’t always give an accurate read.
There is a name for this phenomenon: Fundamental Attribution Error. When humans interpret the behavior of others, we often make a particularly human mistake. We tend to attribute too much to character and disposition and too little to situation and context.
So, how does this fit into a training blog? Simple. How many times have we all heard remarks such as “My puppy chewed the leg of the couch out of SPITE!”. Or “My dog peed on the floor to get back at me for leaving him home alone! “ Or “My horse won’t stand still when I mount when we’re away from home, just to make me look foolish.” Or “My horse won’t load in the trailer at the end of a show day just to make me crazy!”
In fact, in many cases, the animal does what it does without any personal affront intended. The puppy is bored, and there was that nice couch leg tempting him to see if it was tasty. The dog pees on the floor because… well, it has to pee and no one is there to let it outside. The horse won’t stand still for mounting away from home because it’s nervous or anxious or just needs more training or help relaxing (or both). The horse won’t load because he’s tired and just doesn’t want to exert the energy to maintain his balance in that long trailer ride home. None of these are personal afronts, but humans often take things personally, seeing what we want to see or seeing what we normally see instead of the reality of what is actually happening.
Back to Cal’s story… During Cal’s rehab, I did struggle with feeling his ugly faces and aggressive posturing were personal. After all, I had never done anything to inspire all that, had I? Lesson One for me: I had to see him for what he was, which was a product of his past, he was conditioned to react to humans by keeping them at a distance with his expressions and posturing. It had nothing to do with me personally.
Lesson Two (for me): Considering Cal’s past and defenses, I expected to see a “glass half empty” attitude, so that’s what I saw. Once he began to profit from our rehab work and show a more “glass half full” attitude, I had to not only see how he was changing but also stop focusing so much on the flickers of negativity and see the big picture of how he was blossoming into a new horse.
This came to light when I was watching videos I had created for a potential new home for Cal. I had wanted anyone that might be interested in sharing their life with him to get the full picture, so I created a series of long dull, uncut videos that would show the extent of his ugly faces and how the expressions would come and go. In reality, when I watched the videos, there were only a few flickers of attitude and long stretches of engaged, cheerful, cooperative Cal. Yet during the actual making of the videos, my mind focused on the few moments of attitude and basically not the prolonged periods of pleasant interaction.
The bottom line is that I saw what I expected to see, which was attitude and it felt much more frequent than it really was. My expectations didn’t allow me to notice how infrequently the “attitude” surfaced. I saw what I expected to see.
Sometimes it’s hard not to see what we expect to see, whether that means seeing something better than it is or worse than it is. Reality can be a hard pill to swallow at times, and at other times, it’s a welcome bit of good news!
I did rehome Cal and I’m happy to say that not only did I learn a lot about rehabbing difficult cases from him, he learned a lot about giving humans another chance from me.
The best news is that Cal is not only in a great home but here’s an excerpt the latest email I got from his new human:
“Cal is simply wonderful. You were right when you saw something under all that bluster. He's still funny old Cal with those ears but he's SO willing and he SO wants to do the right thing. In fact, the only mistakes being made in this relationship are mine. I absolutely love him to bits!!!
I've learned to be much much lighter with my hands and ride with a loose rein most of the time. He's a lot of fun to ride. Last week it even warmed up enough for us to leave the arena and ride up the road and through the trainer's bush and fields - the snow was up to their bellies and Cal just plowed through it. Such a good boy! Have I mentioned that I love him?”
May all horses in need be so lucky!
1 comment:
Congratulations Elaine on finding Cal such an awesome home and for setting him up for an amazing future!! I love happy endings! That photo of him is also lovely.
When I was reading your post it made me think of my rides on Reese. There are times when I haven't ridden for a while and I can sense deep down I am a bit nervous. In my head during my ride, I invison everything that could go wrong from riding other horses in the past, NOT Reese. I have to shake it off and say, "No, this is REESE not so and so, relax!" Our brains can be such negative things, can't they? Very good post as usual. ;-)
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