Today Gus and I try leather reins that Sandy provided for our long-lining. They feel more substantive, as if they make my cues on his halter much crisper and clearer. Also I take Sandy’s advice to thread the reins through rings that sit higher on his surcingle, running them almost over his shoulders rather than along his flanks. Thanks to these equipment upgrades, we redeem ourselves after our semi-disastrous driving last time.
We do have a momentary balk, and later, on video, I watch myself creeping up on Gus’s heinie; the reins are loopy and I'm crowding him. Not in driving a car, but in driving a donkey I have a habit of tail-gating unawares. And nobody likes being tailgated. At another point — and this time it's for reasons beyond my ken even when I watch the video — Gus is a big hairy fussbudget about halting. He jigs and backs and wheels, as if he’s standing on fire ants. I repeat “whoa” and just wait. At last he achieves a nanosecond of stasis, whereupon I click and treat.
Aside from these brief glitches, our 15-minute Sunday drive goes really well. I manage to walk upright like a normal hominid, with almost no contortions for body-Englishing him around the turns. And we’re able once again to execute some tight maneuvers, such as marching between the big pedestal and the nearby doors.
To celebrate, we expand on the pompom pick-up that we debuted last time: now he carries it to the pedestal and holds it high. Rah!
We do have a momentary balk, and later, on video, I watch myself creeping up on Gus’s heinie; the reins are loopy and I'm crowding him. Not in driving a car, but in driving a donkey I have a habit of tail-gating unawares. And nobody likes being tailgated. At another point — and this time it's for reasons beyond my ken even when I watch the video — Gus is a big hairy fussbudget about halting. He jigs and backs and wheels, as if he’s standing on fire ants. I repeat “whoa” and just wait. At last he achieves a nanosecond of stasis, whereupon I click and treat.
Aside from these brief glitches, our 15-minute Sunday drive goes really well. I manage to walk upright like a normal hominid, with almost no contortions for body-Englishing him around the turns. And we’re able once again to execute some tight maneuvers, such as marching between the big pedestal and the nearby doors.
To celebrate, we expand on the pompom pick-up that we debuted last time: now he carries it to the pedestal and holds it high. Rah!
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