The Lollipop or The Buddha? A Cautionary Tale

Pickle and Brick receiving carrots from the Carrot Dispencer

When I was little, I had a wonderful aunt who lived far away from us. We lived in Vermont, and she lived in London. She was my dad’s older sister. On the rare occasions that she came to visit, I remember being very excited, anticipating the gift she would bring for me and my brother. She always came with one gift for each of us. So every time she came, I remember suffering through her perfume and lipstick as she bent down to cuddle and squeeze us. I could barely stand all the grown-up talk and fawning over us, which would have to take place before she would present her gifts.

I hate to say, I remember the beloved gray sweatshirt she once gave me more than anything she ever said to me. She was a fascinating, larger than life character, a play producer on the London stage, a world traveler and a very dramatic person whom my parents and others had many great stories about. She was adored.

Yet to me, she had grabbed at me and tried to hold me too close. She smelled strongly of perfume, which made my eyes water. She was loud. She did not really see me. She did not see my hesitation. She did not release me when I squirmed to be free from her hold. She planted wet kisses on my cheeks that I hated. But then there were her presents, and they were wonderful. In my kid world, my lovely aunt was totally overshadowed by her gifts.

I wonder what personal memory I could have had of her, my namesake if she had slowed down. If she could have seen me. If she could have waited for my invitation to hug. If she could have waited for my curiosity about her to overcome my shyness. I wasn’t very shy. I wanted to be an actress. I know I would have been truly fascinated by her life and her stories of the stage and all the famous people she knew. I wonder what I would remember of her if there had been no special gift to lift the spotlight from her and shine it instead upon the gift.

I think about my aunt and the beloved gray sweatshirt she gave me every time I think about giving treats to horses and how this can quickly shift their focus from the meaningful to the distraction.

Treats are tricky, as they create a dopamine rush in the recipient and make them associate your presence with the treat instead of with you and the company you have to offer them. This creates an expectation as soon as they see you approaching. If this association does not immediately get answered by receiving a treat, they get frustrated, and their cortisol levels rise, which is actually stressful to them.

The other negative thing that happens with treats is that the feeling of a dopamine rush is addictive, and the craving increases so that they seek a higher dose each time. This is why the behavior ramps up. If you then do not treat they get super frustrated with you and your lack of understanding of coming through with the treat; at this point, they either walk off or pin their ears and try to bite you, which makes not only the horse feel frustrated but you as well because of the lack of connection.

Humans treat animals because we are looking for a way to connect and to do something nice for them, as my aunt did with me and the gifts. People think to make a connection with a horse through a treat or a caress. The caress is a better connection than the treat, as the association is with you and your touch, which does build trust and connection.

What is even better, though, is knowing how to be a true and valuable companion. This is what I teach my clients with the Two Step Technique: a way to be with horses and how to really see them, how to spend time with your horse in a nondemanding, nonjudgmental, very present and deeply listening way.

A horse does not have to give another horse a treat or a caress in order to create a great bond. This is where the being and the seeing of my Two Step Technique comes in. You bring a feeling of peace in your nervous system to share with the horse through being present in a meditative way. Your nervous system is saying to the horse, “Right now, you can be peaceful,” and you bring your awareness that you truly see what is concerning him and what worries him. This says to the horse, “I see you and your concern.” When one feels listened to, one feels better in the presence of the listener.

This being and seeing combined make you a valuable companion for the horse, which makes him feel connected and peaceful. Over time, this builds a true connection, a true bond. The horse remembers the calm feeling and deep listening that come in your presence, not the little sugar high that is so fleeting and demanding of more.

It’s the Buddha or the lollipop. Over time, you will know that the better gift to bring is the feeling of the Buddha, not the fleeting sugar high of the lollipop.

If my aunt had only known this difference, I might have an old photo of us together. Instead, I only have a few pictures of me wearing the favorite sweatshirt she gave me.


* Note: Once a true connection has been created, a treat can be used as a form of payment for a service, but it must be clear to the horse what he has been asked to do and what he is being rewarded for. A reward does not have to be a food treat and must be a reward for an action that was asked for. Treats on their own are never a good way to build a deep connection.

Sporting, with atitude the prized, gray sweatshirt my aunt gave me.

My cat Arthur enjoying a rub on my prized, gray sweatshirt my aunt gave me.

I loved that sweatshirt a lot.