pandareport2

The Panda Project:

Guide Horses For The Blind.

Report 2

Panda is Guiding!

(Covers November 2001)

Grosshill's Panda Bear, Guide Horse in Training

This second report is a detailed account of Panda's second month of training. My goal here is not to teach you to be guide horse trainers, but to chronicle the development of one horse's foundation training. While Panda's future job will require some specialized training not generally expected of other horses, the basics of good ground control are the same. The difference at this stage in her training is more where Panda works, not what I am asking her to do. Her training illustrates beautifully how little pieces accumulate to create a well-trained, emotionally flexible and stable working individual. That really is my goal with this report, to show you how I am building the steps in her training, and how Panda is processing those steps with some truly amazing and awesome results. Hopefully, you will get some ideas from this report that will help you with your own horses.

The first Panda Report chronicled Panda's first month of training. Panda astounded me with her emotional maturity and the speed with which she learned. Within days of her arrival she was house broken, and traveling around in the back seat of my car. She traveled with me to the barn, on shopping trips, and to clinics. Three weeks into her training she accompanied me to Boston where I was one of the presenters at the Tufts Animal Expo. She spent two days with me in the Prudential Center, traveling in elevators, walking over marble floors, greeting people, and being in every way a wonderful ambassador both for clicker training and miniature guide horses. My first report to this list covered her training from her arrival on Sept. 19, 2001 through her Boston trip.

Month Two: Training Basics

After the Tufts Animal Expo in Boston Panda had a quiet week at home. We went back to our more normal schedule. Most mornings included a training walk around my suburban neighborhood. After our trip to Boston I used these walks to look for signs of stress. If Panda had started to spook at things that had not bothered her before, that would have told me that I was asking too much of her. But on our walks she continued to be her unflappable, happy self.

Panda's confidence let me concentrate my attention on basic leading skills. When I first got Panda she led well on the left, but not at all on the right. As a working guide, her handler will be on the right, so this was an issue that had to be addressed.

Initially, Panda was very crooked on the right and leaned into me with her shoulder. She also had a tendency to rear. I had seen this response on the first sales video we were sent of her. On that tape she was just learning about halters and restraint. When she hit the end of the lead and felt pressure on her head, she popped up into the air. On most weanlings this would be cause for alarm, but when the horse is less than 26 inches tall it's more amusing than anything. When she did the same thing out on our early walks, I just laughed at her and called her my little airs-above-ground horse.

Rearing

"Aggression comes from a place of fear." The more I work with Panda, the more I come to appreciate the truth of this statement. Our guardedness, and, by extension, our training choices are shaped so much by our worry: worry for ourselves, worry for our horses. When Panda reared, I could laugh at her antics. I could smile and stay soft with her. With a larger horse it would have been a struggle to remain so calm. I'd be worrying about my own safety and that of the horse's. My training choices would inevitably be colored by my fear. With Panda I could remain consistent, quiet, effective. The contrast made me appreciate just how much of an impact this unspoken concern has on our training.

Panda's antics were certainly entertaining, but they were also unacceptable. As the "move, counter-move" balance to her rearing, I began teaching her lateral flexions, the same exercise I teach to the big horses. This did a number of good things for her. First, it stopped the rearing by redirecting her energy. Prior to introducing this exercise, she was like a car crashing head-on into a wall. She'd hit the end of the lead, and pop up into the air.

I changed this by redirecting her energy. Now when she scooted forward, the leverage from the lead redirected her into a lateral flexion. She had an alternative avenue for her excess energy and emotion. Instead of popping up, she softened politely into a lateral flexion. I never made her wrong for rearing. Instead I gave her an opportunity to earn a click and a treat by offering an alternative behavior.

Pulling

The flexions did something else that's very important. They gave me control of leg speed. Most of the working canine guides I have seen pull. The dogs lean into their harness and basically drag their owners forward. This pull is beyond anything that is needed for guide work. It is the same water-skiing pull on the lead that you see in horses who are ridden on steady contact. Pulling back does not stop the pull in either horses or dogs. It just makes the animal pull harder.

When Panda first started with me, she followed behind me. I was literally leading her. For guide work she would need to walk slightly ahead of my position. From day one, I'd been reinforcing her for moving more briskly forward and for positioning herself so her hip was even with my leg. She adapted to this new style of leading very quickly. When she was in perfect position relative to me, and also straight along the edge of the road and keeping a steady, even pace out in front of me, I would click and reinforce her. At that point she had a light feel on the lead, something I definitely wanted to preserve.

As she gained confidence in this new position, she also gained leg speed. I didn't want to be tricked into taking a firmer and firmer hold to check her back. That's a slippery slope that's all too easy to head down. That little extra hold on the lead is barely noticeable at first. The horse feels just slightly stronger in the hand, but it's such a small change, it doesn't send up red flags of alarm in your brain.

You and the horse get used to the feel which means that you have to start holding a little firmer and a little firmer after that to check the forward rush. After a while, you're both water skiing against each other. You can't let go even if you want to. Now instead of a pleasant, light connection, you feel as though you need to lift weights before you can go for a walk.

That was a path I didn't want to go down with Panda. As I felt that first extra once of pressure, I checked myself. Lightness is my responsibility. It's something I have to create, not by being soft and permissive, but by being clear and consistent.

Pulling is normal. The alternative to pulling is something I have to teach. So every time Panda surged forward, instead of pulling directly back to check her speed, I turned the lead into a "t'ai chi" wall and redirected her energy into a lateral bend. I won't describe here the mechanics for doing this. For that I'll refer you to my book, "Clicker Training For Your Horse" and to the video lesson series, "The Click That Teaches". In particular, the "duct tape" lesson I show on "Lesson 2: Ground Manners" and the "t'ai chi wall" described in" Lesson 3: Head Lowering" explain what I was doing with Panda.

What I will describe is what it created. At first, each time she softened laterally and gave at the poll, click!, she'd get a treat. We'd go a few steps, she'd start to rush, I'd ask for a lateral bend, she'd continue to pull for a stride or two, then give softly. Click and treat! Over our next couple of walks the lateral flexion became something she offered automatically. I didn't have to ask her to give. She was already. Her pace became more consistent. If I did need to make a balance correction, she understood what was wanted and softened to me easily. I could start to build duration, asking not just for one or two lateral steps, but a whole series.

Heel Position

The lateral work eliminated the rearing. This wasn't something I worked on directly. It was just a result, a side benefit. Another side benefit was I now had a way to ask Panda to stand still. Up to this point when we stopped to chat with curious neighbors, Panda would fidget by my side. It was just like having a toddler in tow. She wanted to move, not stand here while the "grown-ups" gabbed. Up to this point if Panda walked off, I simply redirected her feet to keep her close to me. I didn't fuss at her to make her stand still.

Now this is an important point. One of the most important principles of training states that: "I cannot ask for something and expect to get it on a consistent basis unless I have gone through a teaching process to teach it to my horse."

This is a principle that I take very much to heart. I could have MADE Panda stand still. She was after all only a hundred pounds. I could have forced her to stand, but I had no way of ASKING her to stand. There is a huge difference. The lateral work gave me a way of explaining to her that I would like her to stand still, and not only that, I would like her to stand in a particular position.

This in turn opened up a couple more areas that I could begin to work on. Not standing well had meant that Panda was also fussy about being handled. She tolerated grooming, but I needed to restrain her with the lead to keep her from ducking out from under my hands.

She loved being scratched. Scratch her withers, and her neck would arch, and her little nose would start to wiggle in delight. Scratching was good, but not grooming, and certainly not hugging. If I put my arms around her or asked her to stand still for currying, she'd start wiggling and squirming like a little kid who is being smothered by an unwanted embrace. Again, I adhered to my principle. I hadn't taught her to accept such contact, so I didn't force it on her. I simply waited until I had the training steps in place to deal with it in a clear and consistent manner.

Normally, I would have tackled this gap in her handling early on in her training, but with Panda other things were a higher priority. House breaking, car travel, stair climbing, and foot care were much more urgently needed. But now with the skills the lateral work put in place, when she squirmed forward, I could redirect her back to my side. As she came into "heel" position, click she got a treat.

On our walks I practiced having her wait patiently by my side as I chatted with neighbors and answered all their questions about training a mini to be a guide. As we played the "grown-ups are talking, please don't interrupt game", I added a new criterion. It wasn't enough that Panda stood quietly by my side. I wanted her to press in next to me so I could feel her body against my leg.

Panda caught on to this aspect of the game fast. She learned to line herself up right beside me, and then shift her body into a counter bend so her ribs pressed against my leg. I loved the "bear-hug" feel of this maneuver. And I also appreciated the security it gave to both of us. I didn't have to look down at her to know where she was. As I was chatting, I could monitor by feel exactly what she was doing. I wouldn't teach a full size horse to press into me like this. I'd be teaching the exact opposite, but for a working guide this behavior will be wonderfully useful.

Liberty Training

"Heel position" laid the foundation for the next stage in Panda's education. (I was about to say training, but somehow education seems much more accurate.) Up to this point when I brought Panda into the house, I had kept her on a lead. Now as I worked at my desk, I turned her loose. At first, when Panda wandered off, I would call her back. As soon as she heard her name, she'd come right back to my side and line herself up in heel position. I loved the boomerang effect the recall had on her. And I loved the way she so deliberately and without any prompting from me would swing her hips into position so she could press her ribs up against my chair. Click and treat!

After a couple of days of this, I experimented with some pure shaping. When she wandered off, I did nothing. I just kept working. Panda wandered into the front hall, then turned and came back on her own. She lined herself up into perfect heel position. Click and treat.

Panda took her one pellet of grain politely from my hand and wandered off again. This boomerang game went on for ten minutes or so. I'm sure at this point many people would have been worrying about her leaving as soon as she got her treat. They'd be thinking they weren't ever going to get their horse to just stand still.

So many of us don't stay with an exercise long enough to see what it can give us. We start fixing it before it is broken. With Panda I just kept reinforcing the behavior I wanted which was heel position. I kept my rate of reinforcement high. Each time she offered the behavior, click, I reinforced her. I made no attempt to make her stay next to me. She was free to go after every click.

After about ten minutes, Panda hesitated after getting her treat. I captured that hesitation with a click. She held her ground again, maintaining a tight heel position by my side. Click and treat. Before she had a chance to leave, I was capturing the behavior I wanted. Panda was discovering that all that leaving and coming back was a lot of work. Staying not only was easier, it yielded more goodies. Without changing anything I was doing, I had a horse who was glued to my side. Once I had that, I could begin ever so gradually to stretch out the time between clicks.

One of the great things about training with positives is each lesson opens the door to so many more other good things. I had begun just a few short weeks before with the simple intent of teaching Panda to yield softly to pressure. (See The Panda Project, Report 1). I had needed her to stay by my side while I attended a clinic, so I had basically molded her into position by pressing gently on her hips. When she shifted over closer to me, click, she got a treat.

In that lesson she learned many good things. She learned to step away from instead of in to pressure. She learned that I would not force her, or trap her to get something done. She learned that there is always an answer even if it does not at first seem obvious. She learned to trust the training, and to trust me. And she learned that gluing herself to my side was a highly desirable, highly reinforced behavior. With the basic framework of the behavior fleshed out through molding and pressure, I could now free-shape more exactly what I wanted.

That in turn opened the doors to even more lessons and to a refinement of the behavior beyond that which I had originally envisioned. The press of her body against my leg created a wonderfully solid connection that I could now use to to teach off leash heeling.

I had been turning her loose in a small fenced-in garden to play. Now that she was sticking to me like glue, I could give her a larger space as her playground. I turned her loose in my back yard and stood back to watch the fun. She zoomed around, leaping over the flower beds, doing quick 180 degree turns past the bird feeder, then hunkering down for the race past the pine trees. Panda loves speed. Give her space, and she turns into a determined little race horse!

She did lap after lap, then came galloping straight up to me, slammed on the brakes and presented herself in perfect heel position. Click and treat! I started walking, and she stuck to me like glue. I stopped, she stopped. I turned, she turned. I backed, she backed right by my side. Wherever I went, she went. This wasn't something I was forcing on her. She was free to leave, free to put her head down and eat grass, free to do whatever she liked. What she liked was playing the heel game and sticking to me like a pea in a pod.

I know there are many people who have expressed concern over using horses as guides. With Panda they worry about training such a young horse. She is only ten months old, and they are concerned that she is not out in a herd, free to be just a horse.

For me one of the main reason to train any horse is it allows for greater freedom, not less. I could turn Panda loose in my house, and now out here in an unfenced yard because of the connections training created. The more we worked together, the more bonded to me she was becoming, and the more privileges I could give her. Training let me take her to the barn every night. It let me trust her to be safe around the bigger horses. It gave her the security to work independently of a herd and to handle new and often distracting environments. Whether you are a horse, a dog, or a human, training does not mean a loss of freedom. Rather it creates it.

Horses can become all too easily restricted by their "horsiness". Stories abound about herd-bound horses, and the problems their owners have with them. For these horses their instincts interfere with the bond their owners would like to have with them. Yes, they may be out in a herd, but their lives are restricted in so many other ways. They have no safety net under them. When their owners become frustrated, or just too scared to work with them any more, these are the horses that get passed from hand to hand.

By working with Panda now I hope to develop a secure, confident individual who can enjoy the freedom that emotional stability creates. It was certainly creating a horse who was eager to head out on any adventure I might suggest for us, including our next one, a trip to Virginia for a clinic.

To read the rest of this report click here. (Note there may be a problem with this link. The URL for the next page is Http://www.crisny.org/users/kurlanda/report2pt3.html)