We’re adding toys and tricks regularly, which is easy because Gus is so fearless; horses might spook at an unfamiliar item, but I’ve yet to see Gus even mildly concerned. If I roll the big beachball away from us, the chase game brings out his inner predator: his ears flatten back, his eyes flash, and his head lowers as he trots after the escaping ball. He has tried to bite it, but it’s way too big, so he knows the game is to bop it with the top of his nose and send it rolling again. A small plastic tarp is fun too. He gamely places his front feet on it — that is, when he doesn’t reach down and grab it in his teeth. As with the wooden mat, I hope to teach him to keep his front feet on it and pirouette with his hind. Or maybe vice versa.
One day, we find an empty 50-gallon barrel standing about five feet from the wall. Gus immediately introduces himself to it, and then uses his nose to push it over. As it falls with a clang, he gazes placidly at it. (Part donkey, part cat.) I set it upright and we walk some figure-eights around it. At one point, Gus hesitates between the barrel and the wall; with me at his side, it’s a narrow passage. I wait and beckon with just my eyes, and he takes a forward step — click! The next step is easy, and after that he’s a trouper, getting clicked the moment he’s next to the barrel, and then not until after he’s passed by it. With the surcingle and long lines attached, I even drive him through the gap. Who’s a good boy?!
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