The mailbox trick is still developing nicely. Pulling open the door, shutting the door, and lifting the red flag are all easy-peasy, down pat. The really challenging part is placing the rolled-up magazine into the mailbox, especially since, thanks to his horsey head and big nose and wide-set eyes, he loses sight of the mailbox as he nears it. I’ve found that his success closely correlates to how far away I place the mailbox after I’ve given him the magazine — he needs at least a few paces to sight the box, try to lock his radar onto its location, and stay on target as he approaches and loses his view of it. When he takes a firm and straight hold in his teeth, and when I hold the box in a good position, he can shove that magazine straight in, nothin’ but net.
Still, for every clean, smooth insertion (eww…), he still mixes in three or four slightly off-target deliveries, or flappy deliveries to my stomach, or fumbles onto the floor. A failure gives him nothing but a do-over, a near-miss earns a click and treat, and a success brings a click and peppermints and huzzahs.
Gus never seems to tire of this game, even postponing a grazing session on the lush spring turf in order to try and try and try again. Little does he know that soon I’ll be mounting the mailbox against the barn wall, and he’ll have to learn how to put the magazine in without me standing right there behind it. Betcha $50 he’ll figure it out in short order.
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