Emboldened by my progress I was able
to move onto touching him with my
hand...as long as that hand was only
on his face. In the end I had to set up
a sort of routine of touching him with
the crop, and following with my hand,
before doing it with just my hand. Oh,
and of course the bread reward every
three to four seconds. But once I could
touch him I was desperate to brush
him, mostly because shortly after
stroking him my hand was brown with
dust from wrist to fingertip. Deciding
to play it safe I used a brush that had
been used on his friend Marley, letting
him sniff the bristles hoping the smell
would be somewhat reassuring.
I tried it on his neck. The fence actually
creaked a little when he pulled against
it this time. Like many teenage boys
Felix objects to being clean.
Despite my concerns that the fence
would never be the same, I managed
to make it down his neck, under his
belly, and about halfway down his
back before he started swinging about
like a pendulum to keep his bottom
away from me. I figured I'd start on the
other side instead and see if he'd let me
come back to his bottom. He didn't.
In fact, when I let him go, he had a
beautifully brushed and dust-free front
half, which just about gleamed with
the unfamiliar state of cleanliness;
while his bottom remained caked with
mud from where he'd been rolling. He
was practically two different colours
divided neatly down the middle.
I still haven't managed to get the
fencepost back in place, despite much
hammering and I'm beginning to think
I'll have to tie Felix up to the other side
and repeat the exercise if I ever want to
get it straight again.
My original `training plan' was to teach
him to lead and stand quietly when
tied, accept touch so that he could be
groomed, worm him and at some point
teach him about electric fences, quad-
bikes, dogs and other `farm' things etc.
As appears to be the norm with Felix
however, nothing happens when it
should happen. I thought I had plenty
of time to get him used to touch before
worming time but suddenly it was time
and I couldn't just hold Felix's head
and get it in his mouth: it had to be an
in-the-food-job, which presented some
problems.
Felix didn't know what a bucket was,
let alone how to eat out of one and
The big wide eyes and flaring nostrils weren't
a good start, but resolutely I stuck to the
plan. Neck...back to the nose...neck...back to
the nose...neck...