We need encouragement.
Chet did not take me out after Prince's tragic death for some time, but Dr. Fred drove me a great deal, as there was only the bays and myself then.
Topsy had had no regular breaking yet, but Chet declared his intention of attending to the matter at once.
When he did undertake it he frightened the poor thing almost to death, and what the outcome would have been I can only surmise, had not a humane man noticed him one day and chided him for his method, or rather lack of method. "Let me show you my way," he said. I suppose Chet was getting tired of the job, so surrendered.
From being always handled, Topsy was all right, so long as no harness was introduced, or any unusual noise made near her; but at the first unfamiliar sight or sound she was a bunch of terrified, prancing nerves, expecting the worst, and usually getting it, in the form of a whipping.
"She's got to learn that I'm boss," was a favorite expression of Chet's.
"Well, my boy," said the gentleman, "I suppose it is necessary for a horse to know it has a master, but it is equally necessary for us to recognize that they have rights, and also that bullying an animal is not being, in a manly sense, its master. Now I have broken scores of horses, and never yet whipped but one, and I have always hated myself for doing that."
Then he began to gently rub Topsy's head and neck with his hands, and later with a brush. She seemed to enjoy this, and when he let the latter gradually pass over her shoulders and back, she offered no resistance.
He worked with her fifteen minutes or longer, then turned her into the little enclosure she occupied during the day. I think I neglected to say I was resting out at the farm for a day or two when this occurred.
In two or three hours the man came again, and repeated the handling and brushing, only this time he touched the whole body, talking kindly and reassuring all the while.