Dreamed I saw a UFO. It was such a realistic dream that I think I can let go that dream of seeing a UFO. A dream and a dream. Funny, eh? It was dusk. I was at a ranch taking last orders from the boss about fattening a cow, *his* cow and advertising her sale. The sky was an odd colour, that clear green blue tinged with yellow sometimes seen before a storm. The country was flat. There were street lamps at the inbetween stage of flickering on and flickering off. Higher in the sky there was another light. At first I took it for another street lamp as it too was flickering on and off except it wasn't flickering, it was fading in and out. And it had a halo, as though observed through fog. Just as it was starting to dawn on me that this was no streetlight, two fast moving yellow lights (same colour as it but brighter), popped into existence in front of the larger light. I knew then they were no ordinary lights. Suddenly all three lights streaked at an angle toward the horizon and were gone. Except for working on a ranch and taking orders about a fat cow, the above could be a real description of a UFO sighting. It certainly felt real enough. Perhaps it's a premonition. A few nights ago I dreamed of seeing a black and silver passenger jet crashing to the ground on a neighbour's land. We were driving home and I'd just been pleasantly surprised to find my little car had a cruise control button. We crossed the bridge, looked up and there it was, upside down and falling nose first. It exploded on impact. We drove into the paddock to help and saw the victims, mostly unhurt, walking to the road. No one wanted to be taken to the hospital. That night, on one of SBS foreign news feeds (Polish? Russian?) footage was shown of a jet, probably at an air show plummeting to earth and bursting into flames. The pilot ejected before impact. But enough of dreams. Jack is gone. Peter and Gabi came and got him on Sunday. I've been haunting the computer looking for an email from them to tell me how it's going. They moved the troublesome couple into their own marital quarters. Crock was the one who chewed Jack's toes. He is a very jealous and cranky bird. There are four birds left in the big aviary, none of which have big bruiser personalities so hopefully Jack will find someone to befriend to fill the hours while Gabi is gone. Two of the four birds are a bonded pair. The king parrots here are quite tame and very demanding. Yesterday morning one almost landed on my head so keen was he to let me know that if I didn't put out seed RIGHT NOW he was going to die of hunger. They hang upside down off the gutter to grumble at us. One even followed us half a mile up the road to tell us there was no seed. Richard had topped up the afternoon feed because of their complaints but still they griped. One swore at us from the banana tree. Right, I said. You want seed? Earn it! I put seed on the palm of my hand and held it up. Damn if he didn't, after some consideration and a few false starts, fly to my hand to eat.

The Smallness of Being

The sun rises earlier as spring ages into yellow summer. I wake with the birds. I may not always get up. We've had noisy fast moving storms over the past few days. After the last storm cell strode across the sky to the east, herding deserter clouds before it, it was desert weather. Crystalline skies, no summer haze, no, thank god, smoke haze. Cold. Coming outside this morning in shorts, as a tribute to spring, and a padded jack, from necessity. Sun hadn't touched the mountain yet. Silver dew on the grass. Horses, kept in overnight, erupted through the gate and galloped across the paddock, even Drifter, who gallops less and less these days. Finished the chores and tacked up the whippets for their morning constitutional. Like a brace of chariot horses they tugged me along the drive. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Part call of nature, after all they must hold their bowels and bladder from 9:30pm until the following morning, part the dog's natural enthusiasm for everything that doesn't involve vets. Sometimes, not often enough, I am struck anew by the beauty of the country. Not any country, but *this* country. Australia, yes. Queensland, yes. And this little dead end dirt road that follows the long narrowing valley into Paradise. Sometimes I can make myself see familiar things with new eyes, sometimes, with more joy, the newness is impressed upon me from without. This was one of those mornings. The dogs know I will walk as far as Bird Hill, a natural rise with trees on both sides of the road that is a bird corridor between the mountain and the juncture of two creeks below. There we stop, look and listen. All three of us. At first I am trying to identify bird calls; dollar bird, grey butcherbird, fig bird, black butcherbird (beautiful!), crow, double bar finch and then I stop. There is too much carolling, piping, squeaking, yodelling. It is just sound, a symphony of sound. All those dark shiny eyes, those quivering throats giving a voice to what it is to be alive. The very air vibrates with it. I vibrate with it. My heart seems to burst and for a moment, just a moment, I leave behind the minutiae of being and just Be. Then the moment passes and I shoulder the shell of Me-ness, the thoughts, the lists, the naming, the continuous internal dialogue returns and I and the dogs return with it, to home and breakfast and chores and the smallness of being.

Jack

Jack is going to live with Gabi. I am so pleased. Ever since he came to live with us he has been yearning for Gabi. When she visits he is Mr. Friendly and screams long and loud when she goes. At first I thought it was Peter he missed as Peter is the one with the knack for cockatoos. Last night proved without a doubt that Jack loves Gabi. They'd come for dinner, champagne and beer, a sort of routine we've got into when they can visit, but with less junk food than before (they are a very good influence!). We sat around the island bench while I prepared the food and talked. Jack, despite the dark, shouted, yelled and screamed without letup. I'm pretty easy going as far as noisy cockatoos go but Jack hardly stopped to draw breath and it was annoying...except to Gabi. "I kind of like it," she said. Huh? After dinner I slipped outside for a smoke. Jack was still yelling so I turned the light on under the gazebo so he could see to climb onto the standing perch which he did without hesitation. I carried him to the kitchen window and although part of him was wary (there are cats in there!) he looked happy to be finally gazing at his beloved. Peter came out to say a cautious hello followed by Gabi. And that was it. Jack climbed onto her arm, preened her arm, nuzzled into her sweater, gazed adoringly at her face with that soft expression which only sulphur crested cockatoos in love can make and generally proved to the best of his ability that Gabi was his Lady Love and if we didn't see that and let him go live with her than we were cruel, inhumane and completely stupid. So it's settled. Gabi was willing to take Jack last night but Peter thought it best to prepare one of the aviaries for him, either the huge but disused bat creche or the smaller but closer to the resident cockatoos aviary. Frankly, as Jack does not attempt to fly, ever, even when he thinks he's in mortal danger, a large aviary is wasted on him. But that's for them to sort out. Part of me is a little sad for although we've had our moments, Jack is such a significant person, that we will not but notice his absence. No more "Hello Jack!' each time we walk past. No more afternoon grazing. No more of those searching direct looks he gives that are so full of meaning yet indecipherable. I will miss him but I am so glad he is going to be with his One True Love.

Had a terrific session with Balthazar last night. I let myself get too stressed about a less than perfect training cycle. Should be less hard on myself and give both of us TIME. Have always wanted everything perfect straight away. Comes from living the good life all my life. Spoiled. Anyway, Balthazar was much better. Yes, I did have to up the pressure to get him to trot but once he was trotting the glitches smoothed out. We had better departs, he even gives a little jump in the front to start the trot. Not quite a nano-rear but he has to use his hindquarters to do so and anything that gets him off the front end and onto the back is a good thing. One problem we do have, which we've always had, is his very visible excitement in the pizzle department. Why carrots are so arousing is beyond me. Sometimes when being ridden with lots of carrot reinforcement he even begins to 'sound' like a stallion courting a mare before the coup de etat. He's not quite so bold on the ground but he does nicker alot and stay visibly excited, to the point where trot departs are impossible because it is out and interfering. I've tried to join the click that teaches on Yahoo groups but haven't heard back yet. Wonder if other people have this particular phenomemon and if so, what they do about it. Drifter was the same. Don't remember that Dakota or Pagan were much of a problem. I mean, they are all gelded. That sort of thing shouldn't happen, although I do see them enjoying themselves occasionally. Anyway, we just have to work around it. Once it's been withdrawn is the best time to work on gait changes. Just hard (no pun intended) to give alot of reinforcement for good work without it rearing it's ugly head (pun intended). Peter suggested I try licorice as a treat. Wow, what a revelation. Balthazar became quite predatory. He watched like a hawk when I game some to the others. Drifter, as usual, stuck his nose up and said I'm not having any. Pagan and Dakota were equally pleased. Balthazar however, was in Mach III Enjoyment Mode. Would be nice to use it as a c/t treat but as it's chewy it takes too long. Will use it as a jackpot piece for a job really well done. Haven't written anything on art. Have about finished the work started with the ink dripped onto wet watercolour paper. It's a but busy and I'm not entirely pleased with it but it's been a good learning process. There are parts I quite like, images half seen which are brought out but because the images are from chance, there's no cohesive theme that I could find and make work. It's a hodgepodge. Used ink, chalk and oil pastel, pen and coloured pencil. Think I've done all I can with it. Time to start on something else, what that might be I have no idea. But have to do something. I'm always better in myself when I've got a project going. I don't want to move but part of me would love to have a small private studio. A place where I could make a mess and leave it. Where I could spread out and breathe. Oh, and large enough for a stereo and a yoga mat.

Dapples and Termites

For the first time since I've had him, Balthazar has dapples. Not huge, not gaudy but definitely there. Have had him on Pat Coleby's Natural Horse Care diet for about three weeks. I put the blame squarely in Coleby's court. Whatever magic ingredient he was missing in the expensive Equilibrium he's getting from the basic ingredients of Coleby's recipe.

And yes, we have termites. Our 100+ year old Queenslander has had her defenses breached. Richard had gone beneath the house to check the floorboards of our bedroom. We're going to get it sanded and polished. While there he discovered they'd built a bridge from the stump OVER the metal stump cap and onto the wood. They have eaten through five VJ boards. That we know of. Now that we know what to look for it's obvious. Painted boards with ripples and waves. When you touch them they give under pressure. A lot. Pest man comes today.

Got very discouraged with myself and Balthazar on Friday. I seemed to be back to my old tricks as did he. In the rut I didn't want to be in again. Resolved I would just work on one thing, that the problem is I wanted him to do this and this at the same time which only confuses him.

In clicker training the behaviour is offered and rewarded. The trainer sets it up so that the behaviour occurs without coercion, ie pressure. Think of the dolphins. And Dimitri. Couldn't force Dimitri to retrieve, I had to reward small increments of movement which added, finally, to him picking up the object and dropping it in my hand. With Balthazar on the end of a line, there is already pressure. He can't choose to do the behaviour because he is constrained to a circle with me at the center.

For instance, asking for a trot. The other day we had wonderful departs, quick and decisive. On Friday we dribbled into a trot or only walked faster. I resorted to slapping the end of the line on the ground. That got the sought for response but as soon as I did it I regretted it. I used pressure and fear to get what I wanted. Which is what I don't want. He got stressed. His sheath was squeaking and again he was holding, not chewing the carrots. Time to quit and regroup.

Also, we still have the problem of him spiralling in on the circle. I have to use pressure, alot of pressure to get him away. That was what I was going to work on, that one thing, getting him to sidestep away from me with pressure but reducing that pressure until it was only a small movement from me that would get him out. But I had little success.

What was worse was that he walked away from me when I went to halter him. Sure sign he's not enjoying the sessions. And he should. The whole point is that he should.

So what will I do differently today? The KISS method. Keep to what works and what he does well. Stop at any sign of stress. High rate of reinforcement. If he wants to change direction on the circle let him and reward that as a test for that seems to get him 'up' and motivated. We can always stop that later if it gets to be a problem (she says confidently). That will have the added advantage of getting him working off his hindquarter which will build muscle and topline.

Had an excellent 15 minutes with Balthazar yesterday afternoon. Having 24 hours to think about what we'd attempted the previous day seemed to help him work it out. There was one exercise where I place my hand on the halter between his cheek and muzzle and gently push his head away from me so that he eventually executes a turn on the hindquarter (an awkward way to do it but I think the exercise is just to instill a feel and a sensitivity to pressure). When Peter was here, Balthazar bobbed his head, swung it to the ground, swung it high, everything but just follow my asking hand. That was where Peter said I should bump his head with my hand (closed as a fist) to get him to move but I think that would've made things worse. He was obviously not comfortable with following the feel so best to just stay with him using an even pressure, as even as I could keep it anyway given that he was swinging his head all over the place. That was Tuesday. Wednesday I asked and he quietly followed my lead and swung his head around until he did a turn on the forehand, or part of one. I didn't push my luck and ask for too much. I rewarded what he offered. He did the same on the other side.

One thing I noticed which is something I need to work on is Balthazar's sensitivity. Yesterday afternoon was cool, not cold, not warm. By the time I'd walked Balthazar to the arena he was hot to touch. A few minutes more and he was starting to sweat on his flank and chest. The 15 minutes of c/t involving some turns, some longeing, a few changes of direction on the longe, a tiny bit of full pass (couldn't believe he remembered it), a couple of turns on the hind and fore quarter and some backing up, was done calmly and with many rewards. So although he appears calm on the outside his anxiety is betrayed by the fact that he is breaking into a sweat. The only thing I can do is continue to work him with the same patient and calm attitude. In time he should trust that nothing bad (me losing my temper and whacking him with the end of the lead rope) will happen. His anxiety is my fault. How can he trust someone so untrustworthy? My modus operandi has been cool calm collected with flashes of temper peppered sporadically throughout. I feel guilty about this but I'm not going to beat myself up for 'when I know better I do better'. And it didn't happen all the time just often enough to make him sweat when he comes to the arena.

Working on patience is paying off. Didn't realize how ingrained the habit of asking him to do something else before he'd finished chewing the reward carrot was until finding myself starting to ask for another behaviour. Now at least I'm catching myself.

Yesterday he stayed out on the circle better and his trot departs were snappier. It pays to work on one thing with lots of reinforcement. It writes a clear message.

Natural Horsemanship Play Date using c/t

Good day today. Peter rang this morning to ask, seeing that it was such a perfect spring day, could he bring Emmy down and we'd have a Natural Horsemanship play. For the first time Balthazar ran away when I went to get him but I think it was the excitement of having a strange horse in the yards. He wasn't hard to catch. Cleaned both horses up and took them to the arena. Peter helped me with the preliminary 'games' to assess the readiness of the horse to work. Balthazar was a bit 'up' at first but soon settled. Emmy, an old hand from many camps and much practice at home, was unfazed by the strange surroundings and strange horse. Peter helped me with some problems, specifically Balthazar spiralling in on the circle. Also, going through the games gave me some homework. I did use c/t during todays session. I don't want to bump him, as Peter suggested when I was attempting to get Balthazar to give to a turn on the hindquarter. I want to just use consistent pressure and when he gives, to reward that give. Balthazar did pick it up so I'm very pleased. Also, I don't want Balthazar to disengage his hindquarter to stop on the circle. He is too ready to face me already. I want him to stop on the circle, ideally bent to the same degree on the circle when he halts as when he's is going.

Certainly I don't have the xperience of Ken Falkner or Pat Parelli and am probably wrong in attempting to do things my way but I want everything I do on the ground to be relevant when I am on his back. For example to halt when walking beside the horse, Ken advises asking them to give the head *away* from the handler. There's something else too whether it's a tug on the lead or what I don't remember, I just remember thinking I wouldn't be riding the horse and asking him to move away from my hand flapping at his eye. I've been walking parallel, saying whoa and raising the hand with the lead rope, trying to duplicate from the ground what Balthazar would 'feel' when I was riding (plus using the voice of course). So that's what I did. It's not Faulkner, it's not Parelli but until I can see the sense of asking him to give way to a flapping hand, it's what I'll do. If he learns the commands through clicker training, it's not so much 'giving to pressure'. He can learn everything he needs to know with a reward as the goal to have an attempt at it.

Instead of asking for a complete sloppy circle of turning on the forehand or turningn on the hindquarter, I would ask for one good step and reward that. Because we moved on to other exercises I didn't attempt to perfect them. I just wanted the basics to practice when Peter's not around. I can look for improvement when we practice solo. I truly believe c/t is a far superior method of training. Giving to pressure works but what's in it to motivate the horse? Why should he try for you?

Unfortunately Balthazar was lame. Not badly. It only showed up at the trot on the circle as a bit of unevenness. Still, he's been 'spelling' for two years so I'm not sure what else to do. It's the same hoof that had the abscess but that's long ago now and shouldn't be affecting him. Could find no swelling or heat in leg or hoof. Of course I don't have hoof testers so can't tell if it's the hoof or not. The lameness is very minor yet I don't want to ride him when he's not right. Took the saddle down and thought if everything went well I'd have a ride on him.

Peter is goingn to modify my old endurance bridle, made of lightweight nylon, so that I can attach reins to it. He took Balthazar's measurement (above the muzzle). Riding with this modified bridle will give clearer signals than riding with the knot below a regular rope halter like a pseudo bosal.

I didn't realize I missed horses so much. I fed them every day, turned them out in the morning, patted them, checked them over for problems, sometimes groomed them, especially in the spring when they are losing their winter coats, but otherwise I hadn't interacted with them for such a long time. Now I'm excited, looking forward to going bush, riding in company (Peter's got an old friend, also a horseperson who is keen to trail ride), and just spending special time with my special horse.