Wednesday, April 23, 2014

When baby steps are leaps and bounds:

Photo copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.
When you have an animal with severe PTSD.

As of tomorrow, it will be exactly four months since Ice crossed a downed section of fence onto our side and made himself at home (he'd mysteriously appeared on the other side of the fence, unclaimed, unknown, and apparently unowned, two or three days before that). The photo above was taken on February 14th, which was, I believe, the first time we managed to get him all the way into that stall. Now he goes in on his own.

The other stalls, the two conjoined ones separated by ProPanel sections that have always been shared by the other horses? Not so much.

Not at all, actually. They terrify him.

It seems to make him claustrophobic. And because the structure is bisected by the ProPanels, it does mean that they are narrower — and the interior is darker — than is the case with this separate stall at the extreme south end of the south pen, the pen he shares with Harmony and Spock. But he's never been willing to enter them. At all. Not even a little bit.

At the entry to the south one is what's called an Itchin' Post (yes, it's the trade name). They're rubberized mats that look a bit like an egg crate in structure; you nail them around the end of a stall wall or a post, and the horses can rub up against them when they're itchy (as they are now while shedding the last of their winter coats), hence the name. We put some up years ago, but the other horses can rarely be arsed to use them.

A few weeks ago, Ice finally noticed them, and now he uses them daily. But with the one on entry wall of the conjoined stall, he's always placed himself sideways to it, so not even his rump would be inside the stall.

Until 15 minutes ago. I walked outside, and there he was with his butt in the stall. Under the roof, between the walls, inside it and everything. No, not the rest of his body; just his rump. But that's more than he's ever been willing to risk inside that dark scary place before.

It looks like a baby step to anyone else. I can see just how big a leap it is for him.

When even the south stall (the one shown above) still has the capacity to frighten him, this is a big deal.

A couple of nights ago, he was closed into the south stall as usual, with his alfalfa. Wings wanted to get some probiotics into him, which involves mixing a powdered form with a little grain. We use an old, battered metal dog bowl for that purpose, and Wings took it in like he normally does.

And Ice freaked. Not violently; just frightened enough that he wouldn't take it, wouldn't eat it, wouldn't eat it out of the trough. Started trotting in circles, getting stressed. So Wings left it in the trough and asked me to try.

I went in and he shied a bit, but didn't run. I got a handful out of the trough. Put it under his nose. He ate it. I called him to follow me, motioning to the trough. He tossed his head, then made a single tight turn, and followed me straight to the trough. Began to eat.

Baby steps.

Big leaps.

He's gonna be all right.




Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.

2 comments:

  1. he escaped from someone - he was "owned" by a man briefly and he was not treated kindly, not mistreated, just not kindly, especially when he was separated from his mother.

    i get the feeling that he was put in a trailer and it frightened him to no end when he was separated. the trailer was dark and he felt trapped.

    how he made his "escape" he's not saying - but i get the feeling the person who had him couldn't afford to take care of him and just turned him loose thinking he'd "survive" as a wild horse.

    he's been on his own since he was very young - so he never learned to "trust" humans after that first trailering and encountering.

    i get the feeling he was "bought" to be a working horse but was so spooky and frightened, he didn't "earn his keep" - even to the point of never having been backed (or only briefly). his "escape" mechanism is huge - but he has no desire to leave you and wings.

    yes, wings will be able to back him one day - just take it very very slowly and with lots of ground work first... then, when he trusts more, he will grow to love the time together.

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    1. In Ice's case, nah - this is an Indian pony (or, rather, a former one, turned wild), and there's a very specific dynamic at work here. We're all too familiar with a particular practice WRT what happens when someone (often who doesn't know anything about them) gets a horse, then can't afford it - or gets one they're not capable of handling. Can't feed it? Turn it out, abandoned. Can't handle it? Turn it out, abandoned and probably abused. Want it back? Go try to get it back, and then when you realize it needs rebreaking, go about it the worst possible way. When it doesn't work, turn it out again. He's been starved, abused, and turned into a wild mustang, basically.

      As far as Wings, Ice loves him, and mostly trusts him. I think the flash of the dog bowl triggered a bad memory. probably of having something that looked similar thrown at him.

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