DiDi and the Biscuits
Each morning at about 8.30 I go up and check The Huzzy.
The routine is of course to make sure that she has passed the night OK.
I check the water to se how much she drank, I check the hay net and I check her feed bucket.
I look to see what kind of mess she has made of her bedding. One knows what these mares are like - one has to run around and clean up after them.
I run my hands over her to check for abrasions, however, small.
As my head appears over the stable door, she deigns to look up.
I know she already is aware of my presence on the yard for she has made a little snigger at the sound of my car. She knows which car is mine and I can only fool her by using my wife’s car.
I call across and say: “Good Morning Huzzy”
She then slowly ambles over to the door
I stand in the middle, she squeezes in the left hand corner from the other side.
Here head moves towards my shoulder. Then comes the nudge.
The nudge is undoubtedly her asking, yeah demanding, her biscuit.
A biscuit is slightly smaller than a sugar lump. As far as I can judge it is pretty tasteless.
In theory it is impregnated with the smell of apple. There are herbs which smell of apple.
I doubt if this biscuit has ever been near an orchard, let alone an apple.
Of course, I reach down into my pocket and give her the biscuit.
She is addicted to that biscuit.
Without doubt I then get another nudge. She wants another biscuit.
At this moment her feed bucket still lies on the floor on the other side of the door.
She knows I have got to get in to the stable to get it. But the biscuit is of more importance.
It comes first. Breakfast comes second.
I open the door, she moves back to let me in. I pick up the bucket.
I go over to the feed cabinet and make up her breakfast.
I leave the stable door open. She waits patiently. She knows I am going back.
I go back with the bucket filled with breakfast.
She waits until it is on the floor then it is nose in , snuffle, snuffle, slobber, slobber.
When she is finished, I go back into the stable.
I fit her head collar and bring her out of her stable.
I take her coat off and start the grooming process.
Then she is either put out or tacked up. It all depends.
This routine is every day. It never varies. It is always the same,
Over time, pretty much everything we do together starts to become a routine.
I know that as soon as I can establish a routine, then she will learn it and follow it.
What I risk is that I have run out of biscuits. Because that is where it all starts.
A small tiny almost tasteless biscuit which is so important to her.
It won’t really make her fat. She doesn’t bite me. She doesn’t ask anyone else.
It is the one movement of non verbal communication, which we both unquestionably understand,
But she does give me a horse nudge and DiDi weighs over 500 kilos. I tolerate that move.
She forgets that I am weak and puny. But there again I daren’t tell her that I am.
I now know for sure, that when I want her attention, as and when she is dreaming of something else,
I can always get full 100% attention from her by producing a biscuit.
I now know that if I want to reward her especially, I can do that also by giving her a biscuit.
I don’t mind what other folks say - the system works. Barry’s Biscuits.
Last edited by xxBarry Godden; 10-07-2009 at 12:51 PM.