A horse owner for nearly forty years, I thought I knew a thing or two about all things equine. In fact, not only have I owned horses for most of my life, but I have also studied them academically in college. If not an expert, I certainly considered myself well above average when it came to knowledge of their care and handling. But enter one determined donkey, and I soon realized how little I really knew.
Harmony’s arrival on our farm brought the need for quick attention to farrier and veterinary care. Initially, Harmony’s needs were paramount to everything else. However, the kind of handling required to get her immediate care was not something I wanted to do in the future. I longed for her to receive the sedative-free, pleasant handling that my horses were accustomed to receiving. The first step was for me to develop a friendship with an animal who had little desire to enjoy my company.
A small bag of treats and a large dose of patience brought about my first success. Spending time hanging out in Harmony’s lot at a mutually agreed upon distance apart slowly began to bring her some measure of comfort with and curiosity about me. I offered treats from my outstretched hand but never forced myself on her. Over a period of several days, she would greedily snatch a cookie from my hands and then quickly back away. I never gave chase, instead allowing her to decide when she felt comfortable enough to stand still and slowly chew her treat without feeling the need to disengage from my company.
Eventually, she allowed me to touch her muzzle and later her head and neck. As our relationship began to solidify, I thought about the best way to halter her without destroying our tenuous level of trust. I chose a thin cotton rope for the occasion, one that I could slip into the palm of my hand and hold as I stroked her. Slowly, she accepted the feel of the rope over her entire body. Even so, the first few times I tried quietly looping it loosely around her neck, she resumed her habit of quickly backing away.
I had recently learned some of the basics of positive reinforcement training, so I began using the treats for more than establishing a relationship. I began to use them to reward Harmony for exhibiting desired behaviors. In this manner, when she stood still and accepted the rope, I rewarded her with a treat.
While positive reinforcement training can be used with almost any animal, including horses and donkeys, what happened next, in spite of our successes, demonstrated that Harmony would continue to exert her independence in surprising ways.
My plan, once Harmony stood quietly with the rope looped around her neck, was to use the rope to accustom her to the feel of a halter. In other words, I would position the rope on areas of her head, such as behind her ears, under her throatlatch, or around her muzzle—areas where I hoped she would soon feel the slight pressure of a halter attached to a lead rope.
My success led to the purchase of a breakaway halter that I hoped would make her easier to catch in the pasture. But try as I might, the little donkey was adamant that her new green halter was not going over her head. After several days of failures and with a growing sense of frustration that we were moving backward rather than forward, I was forced to reconsider the situation. Was my new little donkey simply dimwitted or maybe even stubborn as donkeys are often portrayed to be? After all, I would have had the halter on most horses by now and be happily leading them about our farm. Harmony’s bright and inquisitive nature eventually led me to rethink the situation.
After hanging her new halter back in the tack room, I came up with the idea to instead use a rope halter. Harmony immediately loved it. She clearly adored the lack of buckles and fasteners found on a traditional halter, preferring the soft, cottony feel of the type of rope to which she had become accustomed. The halter mystery solved, catching her, then leading for short distances at first and later for longer ones, progressed easily as long as I remembered to stop early and when it was my idea instead of hers.
Once able to catch and secure her, I began to focus on teaching her the skills necessary to receive good farrier and veterinary care. Relying on my newfound ability to listen, an old bag of training tricks, and positive reinforcement, I used a riding crop to gently tap and rub her legs. I rewarded her when she lifted them if only for a second at first. By listening to her body language, I started teaching the skill on the side where she felt most comfortable balancing, moving to the other only after she gained stability. As she progressed, I began to manipulate her hooves, much as my farrier would do, so that she felt less frightened by the experience.
Administering shots and dewormer were other concerns. But by now, I had learned that Harmony would freely tell me where she was most comfortable starting, and once we found that place, the teaching and learning could begin. At first, she wanted nothing to do with a syringe in her mouth. But when I filled empty dewormer syringes with applesauce and then wiped some on the outside of the tube, Harmony soon learned that the process of deworming could sometimes lead to a tasty treat. Next, allowing gentle pricks with toothpicks followed by a scrumptious treat led to the necessary acceptance of the needles used for vaccinations and sedatives, when needed, for the floating of her teeth. Over time, while Harmony was teaching me to be a better communicator, I was teaching her to be a better equid.
Today, years after I first brought her home, there is still work to be done. We are still perfecting our give-and-take communication skills to determine which brush she prefers for grooming. It’s a chore that I hope one day becomes pleasurable for her. And, in spite of many attempts to acclimate her to other people, I am still her chosen person. Perhaps over time, she will learn to be as accepting of others as she is of me.
In the meantime, I am thankful for the many skills that Harmony has taught and continues to teach me. These skills play a major role in my communication with horses and other animals as well as with people. What I once deemed a reluctance to interact and learn was really a quiet yet firm and determined personality buried beneath layers of self-protection. Today Harmony demonstrates growing confidence that bubbles to the surface. I am forever grateful for the transformation and eager to see it continue to grow.