Horse Books

In Michigan's Upper Peninsula, sometimes it feels like winter is never going to end.  For a horse owner, it offers cold-weather challenges such as snow drifts, frozen water tanks and temps well below zero.  This season, the brave stewards of Clifford and Trudy, who took them in during dire straits in December have faced a hay shortage as well, due to the drought of prior summer.

I am so grateful to my friends who are caring for them.  I haven't seen much of the horses this past year, being consumed by Dad's health issues, and then work commitments have taken me on the road.  At every pet expo I attend with the dogs, someone inevitably asks, "Where is Clifford?"

The question always feels like a little kick in the gut, but it's good to have the reminder that people still remember and care about him.  He did make an impact.  We traveled to Long Island New York, to Florida and all over Michigan, visiting expos and libraries to promote "Clifford of Drummond Island."  I thought I might be able to sell some books and entertain people a little bit with my funny house-trained horse.  What I didn't expect was the way Clifford was reaching out to certain people.  He always gravitated to the smallest child in any group.  If that child shrank away in fear, he would turn away and move on to someone who was not afraid.  He was most remarkable with people in wheelchairs, nuzzling them softly without using the mouthing so characteristic of him.  He usually would sniff and examine their legs at length.  One quadriplegic boy asked if Clifford could take his baseball cap off.  His mom asked him why.  But I thought I understood.  It was one way he could make contact.  At my request, Clifford gently removed his cap and dropped it in his lap. 

I hate to think of this talented horse's time going to waste as we weather out a long winter and each crisis. The towing vehicle is broken.  The trailer has seen better days.  Financing travel with a horse can seem like a luxury during lean times.  There are many stories of Clifford that I haven't told yet, and they are the most wonderful stories of all.  I hope we will be able to tour again, as we have just barely scratched the proverbial surface of what Clifford is able to do.

I'm sure there is another book in us, as we explore the mostly-uncharted territories of animals helping people with autism and other disabilities.  Kids may not retain a lot of what we talk about, but they will never forget the day a horse came into their school!

Meanwhile, Clifford isn't exactly suffering, as he munches away on some of the country's best timothy hay, harvested right there locally in Pickford Michigan.  The snow blankets him but he hardly bothers to lift his head.  (Can horses burp?)  Trudy in the meantime is checking out the cute little Morgan stud colt right over the fence.

Maybe spring is coming, after all.

"Clifford of Drummond Island" and others in the Clifford Horse series are now available on Kindle!

Pigs Helping Pigs

This year, Long Island Pet Expo had a booth with potbellied pigs.  This is not unusual for a pet expo, but for some reason I got it in my head that one of them should be trick trained.

My dogs perform in a traveling sport arena called the Classic K9 show.  It includes high jumping, speed racing (over low jumps) and my border collie Til has his own freestyle frisbee show.  We travel all over the eastern USA, and are joined by local teams wherever we go.

Til performing at Long Island Pet Expo.

Some of the expos in Michigan have pig races, where they run around a track.  But I always had thoughts of taking one and training it to run the course in our show as my dogs do.  It may have started when Estephar my Chihuahua got her own pig costume.  Este can run the course, and she's pretty fast.  But she's only 6 lbs so a dog her size has limitations.  To exploit the inevitable breed discrimination that comes with a Chihuahua, I like to dress her up in glitzy outfits and spring her on the audience in the middle of our high speed division -- usually a bunch of border collies.  We play the "Rocky " theme as she skitters over the course in whatever garb she has donned, to the delight of the audience.  She's always a crowd favorite.

Este in her pig suit.

Anyway, back to the pigs.  Not surprisingly, pigs need rescue just like all other domestic animals.  They are abandoned, mistreated and even abused sometimes.   Janice, the thin, elegant lady running the booth for the Long Island Potbellied Pig Association, admitted to me that she was keeping 40 pigs at her house.  It was too many.  They really needed homes where they could get the love and attention they needed..  On Saturday I said maybe we could help the rescue, if I could get a pig to do a trick in our arena as an opening gag for the show.  She was very receptive to the idea.  "Pigs," she told me, "Are the fourth smartest animal."

Somewhere I had heard this.  I suspected the first three on the list were chimps, dolphins and elephants.  All animals can be trained to some extent.  Besides dogs, I had worked with horses, cats, a goat, and an arctic fox.  I'd always wanted to try pigs.  So I was assigned Will, who was one of Janice's favorites.  Will had found a home, but still traveled with Janice to serve as ambassador for other pigs who needed rescue.  At the request of Will's owners,  Janice had already taught him some cute things.  He could play a little piano with his nose, knock down some bowling pins, and turn in a circle.  I was very impressed because Janice didn't use a clicker.  She did a little targeting with her hand, and used Froot Loops as reinforcement.

It's like looking in a mirror!

I got my clicker and some Froot Loops and went to work with Will.  He was about the size of a large ottoman, probably weighing 300 lbs.  His face didn't have a whole lot of expression, at least in terms of what I was accustomed to.  Pigs eyesight is very poor, so I had to think about how to cue him.  He took the Froot Loops from my fingers none too gently with his raspy teeth, but at least he didn't bite down too hard.  As with most new subjects, I started out by just clicking and treating, to get him used to the sound of the click.  When he suddenly grabbed my fingers with a new urgency, I knew he was getting the gist of the click's message.

I taught him to start following me then, and eventually worked up to nudging his knee with my foot.  It wasn't long before he was kicking his foot out.  Soon he was volunteering all four feet, and the back ones too.  It wasn't easy to see his feet, since his big anvil-shaped head was in the way.  I had to bend over and look.  He would follow me around, squinting at me and flipping his nose up, like a nearsighted old man asking for a kiss.

The show was a success.  I had it arranged so that every time Will hit the keys on his little piano, "Beethoven's 5th" would boom through the speakers.  The audience howled.  Will performed all his tricks when asked, including the new foot-shaking. 

Later, when I ran Este in the show, she came out in her pig costume, just to remind the crowd of our Pig Cause.  They shouted in glee.

That night as we were packing up to leave, one of the pigs was left in a running car as his owner went to get something. When he came back, he found the pig, named Junk, had locked the door.  Junk was still inside the car with the engine running.  The police were called and by the time I got out there to gawk, there were four cops standing around the car trying to pry it open, while Junk leered at them from the front seat.  He honked the horn a couple of times, as if to tell them to hurry up.  I snapped photos and screeched with laughter.

Junk the Pig trapped in car.

Janice proved herself a good sport, as she laughed along with me.  "Where's your clicker now?" The pig's longsuffering owner tapped on the window and pointed at the door lock, begging Junk to unlock it.  Alas, no such luck.  Junk was having too good a time scouring the seats for chewing gum.  But finally the cops managed to open the door and Junk was liberated.

The car is no longer a Junker.

When Will performed his tricks yesterday for the audience, I told them the part about pigs being the fourth smartest animal.  I then added, "One of them locked himself in a car here last night.  And the owner was trying to get him to unlock the door.  Well, pigs are that smart!  He didn't get the door open, but he did take the car downtown for an oil change."

Will played piano and bowled for the audience, and I was happy to see him shaking his feet at them too.  I hope we helped raise some awareness for the plight of rescued pigs.  I don't know if we did.  But if 15 years ago I had known it was this easy to train a potbellied pig, I'd probably still be married.

A Wild Heart for Horses

Most horse people have enough empathy to find a movie set intimidating.  As much as we love horses, we all pretty much agree with Jerry Seinfeld’s assessment of the equine as, “a jittery, glassy-eyed dinosaur.”  The predatory response in horses is strong and immediate, so imagine putting one in a completely foreign environment that consists of all kinds of potential monsters:  Huge, swiveling lights on leggy tripods.  Miles and miles of thick electrical cords.  Tarps.  Equipment that raises and lowers cameras, and people pushing more equipment around on wheeled dollies.  Oh yes, when it comes to equines, a movie set is not a place for the faint of heart. 

Here is where Hollywood’s wranglers come in, the unsung heroes of over a hundred years in motion pictures.  They are the stunt riders who risk their necks to make an actor look good, to make a scene come to life, to tell the story that began in the imagination of a writer and director who maybe have never even seen a real horse.  The wranglers are the nitty-gritty, get-your-hands-dirty, real life equestrians, the overworked and underpaid, often unnoticed and sometimes not even acknowledged in the glamorous collaboration that we see on the big screen.

Along with the wrangler comes a very special creature:  A trick-trained horse.  This miracle of nature, when asked, will overcome all his innate fears of horse-eating monsters and jump into icy the river, or look with ears up into the glaring lights and gaping lens, or run over miles of rugged terrain, toward a stack of metal scaffolding laden with panning cameras and moving seats and turning wheels, time and again, when he would rather be running away.

I was fortunate enough to talk to movie horse trainer Tonia Forsberg last night.  She was instrumental in providing the horses for the upcoming Hallmark Movie, Our Wild Hearts.  Premiering March 9, the film is about a wild mustang and stars Ricky Schroder of Lonesome Dove, Silver Spoons and NYPD Blue fame.  Ricky, who also wrote and directed Our Wild Hearts, created the film as a vehicle for his daughter Cambrie Schroder to try her hand at acting.

Cambrie and Ricky Schroder on the set of Our Wild Hearts

Tonia grew up with horses and began trick riding at age 12.  She hung out with such notables as Glenn Randall, trainer of Roy Rogers’ Trigger and the Ben Hur chariot Andalusians.  Training came second nature to Tonia.  “I grew up not knowing that I was learning something.” 

She was most influenced by trainer Bobby Lovegren, who has a long history in film, including the soon to be released The Lone Ranger. Tonia describes Bobby with great respect.  “Of all the trainers I have worked with, his methods are among the most humane.”

I warmed to Tonia immediately when it became obvious that humane training methods were a priority for her.  She said that in her experience, most horses really want to please.  It’s when they get confused, or don’t understand what is expected, that a rider or trainer meets with the most resistance.  Gentle repetition is the key to trust and cooperation.

She said that one of the most difficult things about training horses for film is when a director expects a new behavior within a week, or sometimes even on the spot during a shoot.  She has to explain to the director and crew then that a horse’s learning process takes time, and it is best if new behaviors are taught gradually and with patience.  A horse who has learned something at a slow pace will usually retain it better.  A behavior that is taught methodically will be performed more reliably.  “The longer it takes to make, the longer it takes to break,” she added.

Tonia and her husband Todd, who is also an accomplished trainer, have their own herd of equines that they use for film work.  For the Our Wild Hearts mustang, they used Tommy, their black gelding of unknown lineage.  Tommy is sixteen and Tonia has owned him for ten years.  “He’s very trustworthy.  He has good animation and is a good liberty horse.”

Tommy demonstrates what being a movie horse is all about!

As she spoke of Tommy, Tonia's affection for him was very obvious.  “He had a couple of doubles, but when it called for a scene where I rode bareback, he was the one for the job.  I rode with no bridle and Todd was calling him from a distance of about three football fields.  Every time we shot it, he always ran right to Todd.  We tried it again later with some of the doubles, but that didn’t work out so well,” she laughed.

And Ricky?  I knew that it was often the unlucky job of wranglers and trainers to teach actors how to look convincing on a horse.  I thought with Ricky this most likely wouldn’t be a problem.  He had surely spent many months in the saddle with the role of Newt in Lonesome Dove.  Even though the miniseries aired in 1989, he must have retained some horsemanship skills.

“Oh yes, Ricky was easy!  He was very natural.”  Tonia added, “It took me awhile to warm up to the fact that he is a real person.  They are a very nice family.  Good people. “

At the time of filming Our Wild Hearts, the Schroders didn’t own horses.  But as work on the film progressed, they started talking about buying some.  I think that when it comes to helping someone feel comfortable with a horse, and helping a horse feel comfortable on a movie set, that tells you all you need to know about Tonia Forsberg.

Puppy Tricks

Most people don't realize this, but little puppies can learn tricks faster and with more panache than adult dogs can.  There's an early learning window lasting until a dog is about 5 months old, making their brains like little sponges.  They process all kinds of information during this time, and it's stuff that stays with them forever.  That's why it's important to socialize them during these months.  House training can be slow due only to their physical (read: bladder) limitations.  But the mind of a puppy is a thing of beauty.

Here's a video of Til showing off, at nine weeks, some of the behaviors I am teaching in my trick training workshops. The last one was a big success.  Our next one is scheduled on March 14 at BorderHauss kennels in Howell Michigan. 

Meanwhile you can get a few trick training tips for puppies in my handy booklet, "25 Ways to Raise a Great Puppy."

Happy tails!

25 Ways to Raise a Great Border Collie

Terrible Til once again had a successful run in the Disc Dogs of Michigan Frisbee competition.  This one was held in Grand Blanc, Michigan and we placed third in the novice toss-and-fetch, against about 30 teams.  Til is pictured (against an ugly plywood background, don't ask me why I did that) with his trophy and other prizes.  He's wearing his uniform that was lovingly hand-sewn by our friend Jerrie from Doggone Bandanas. 

Can I just say what a joy this border collie is?   "Terrible Til," my Dad jokingly dubbed him when he was a puppy, for his high drive, into-everything, non-stop busy-ness.  People have complained of his nickname, but as I explained, one definition of "Terrible" is, "causing awe".  So it's kind of like calling him, "Awesome Til".  (How's that for a bail-out answer?)  Til has made friends everywhere we go, and in true border collie style, he doesn't know the meaning of giving up.  He gives his all in every task and always with good humor.  "He's like the guy you always make sure to invite to the party," I told someone.  The "Court Jester" will keep the whole crowd laughing all night, but this one sticks around to help clean up the mess!

Til is well socialized, and I started early when he was only eight weeks old.  Here's an excerpt from my book about puppy training that pertains to socialization:

5)  Make New Friends

Puppies are a natural magnet for attention out in public.  Happily, this is the best thing for them.  After your pup has had his first vaccinations, it is best to take him with you everywhere, exposing him to as much stimulation as possible.

The early learning window closes at about four and a half months of age.  Before that time, even if you have a pup who is shy, you have the opportunity to turn this around by saturating him with new people and places.  You can’t overdo socialization!  If you are headed out for a quick trip to the store, take him with you!  Don’t think that you can’t be bothered.  Grab the pup and a leash and take an extra few minutes just to walk him through the parking lot.  Even short excursions will pay off big time in the long run.

My Best Cat

MY BEST CAT - a Furry Murder Mystery.  While this book is a departure from my usual work (read: adult humor), it is by far the funniest, and one that I wish had garnered more attention.  Maybe it would have if I put more effort into promoting it.  I'm in the process of making it available on Kindle and so it's gotten something of a facelift, with a new cover and all.  The cover illustration is a watercolor I did called, "The Blue Curtain".  Some people will recognize the breed of cat as a blue Abyssinian, which is featured in the story.

There is something deliciously naughty in writing fiction (adult humor) about people whom you have known.  In MY BEST CAT I have combined some of the most horrendous qualities from a few real-life despicable characters in the deranged hobby known as the cat fancy.  Writing can be a cloak-and-dagger form of personal protection.  Karma is in your hands.

The characters shall remain fictitious, but here is a short teaser passage from an early chapter, just to give you a taste.  Oh, and did I mention there is some adult humor?

“Hold still!” Roxanne barked.  She stood with her butt sticking way out while she groomed my Somali.  She would bend over while she combed Kenya’s britches, then grab the tip of his tail and shake, shake, shake the hair so it fell down backwards.  It made his tail real fluffy, and made her butt shake at the same time.  Kenya’s back feet would be lifted off the carpeted grooming table, but he didn’t care.  He just kept right on purring and smiling that kitty smile.  He was that dumb.

The real goal in Roxanne’s grooming yoga was to get Jack, the guy down the row, to look at her ass.  Jack was married to a giddy, heavy-set blonde named Tracy.  But he and Roxanne had been carrying on for a few weeks, and were fresh in the throes of new lust.  Jack pretended to be oblivious to Roxanne’s grooming efforts, but it was only pretend.  He rattled the newspaper he was reading, but I saw his eyes roll briefly toward the target area as he turned the page.  It made me want to gag.  Nothing more nauseating than being witness to someone else’s foreplay.

I didn’t think Jack was all that attractive.  He had pasty skin, a fading mustache, and overall he looked sort of used and dull.  But he was one of the only straight guys in the cat crowd who was over eight and under sixty.  And he was great with the cats, handling them gently and with adulation.  As a result, he was object of perpetual crushes of various cat fanciers.  While other husbands scorned the cat shows, Jack came weekend after weekend, trundling the grooming carts, fetching litter and water, and pinning up lacy cage curtains.  I could understand why.  In the real world, Jack was a dork.  In the cat world, he was a god.

What's In a Face?

Native American girl holding a baby owl, acrylic, 8x10".  The painting is still available for sale.  This is from an old photo (I mean really old, like from the early 1900's).  I was compelled to paint her because I was captivated by her expression.  She is clearly dressed up -- maybe to have the photo made.  But I would really love to know what is happening here.  What could she possibly be thinking?  I invite your thoughts!

Barn Owl Art

Talking With Dogs

Til shows off some of his prizes from a Frisbee competition.

As I am moving back into my role as teacher, not only through an upcoming Tricks class at Borderhauss Kennels but as a certified CATCH trainer mentor, I'm realizing how much nonverbal actions and consequences go into my daily routines.  My thoughts are constantly on reinforcing behaviors that I like, eliminating ones I don't like.  There are very few random treats I give my dogs.  I am in the mode of thinking that no cookie goes wasted.  I am, in essence, a training machine.

While this might seem kind of sad, it puts communication on a whole new level.  I have had to reassess this, too, because now that I have my first border collie, I realize that I haven't made full use of the wonderful cognitive skills in dogs.  I no longer use the grunts and broken English reminiscent of an old Tarzan movie.  I use full sentences.  "Til, Nikita stole your toy and hid it in her cage.  You can find it in there.  Go get it out and bring it to me."

And he does.

I am talking to the border collie much more than I have to others, and the overflow extends to other dogs around him.

Now in house sitting for my friend Cindy while she's away, and caring for her two dogs, I am back to Square One.  The dogs, a Labrador named Nikita and a spaniel mix named Maggie, are both "amateurs" when it comes to the ever evolving "Bailey Method".  Nikita especially is completely clueless.  She is a big, tan, smiling, good-natured oaf, awkward and pushy in her affections.

I hold up a cookie.  "Sit."  I KNOW she knows this cue.  She just stands there grinning, ears flattened, whipping her tail back and forth.

At this point, I have another revelation that with rescue dogs, and dogs who have been randomly reinforced, it is better not to talk.  Their lives are filled with meaningless noise.  They tune it out.  So I revert back to my old nonverbal ways and simply hold the cookie back over her head.  She sits. I toss the cookie and she clumsily snaps at it.

With Nikita I would be back to Tarzan Talk for a little while, using the barest of verbiage, while she begins to grasp all over again that language really does have meaning, and to listen intently for more complex instructions.  As she got to know me, she would eventually start to pay more attention.

Perhaps even more importantly, I would have to learn how to listen to her.