2021 John Mallon Clinic
Within the first 30 minutes of the start of John Mallon's clinic in Arlington, WA this year of 2021, I realized my approach to working with llamas had been wrong all along. I looked back to the days, as a kid, when I trained my llamas with a clicker, with treats, with overwhelming praise, with overwhelming pressure.
"Any movement is considered to be life-threatening until proven to be otherwise," John said.
He reminded us that as prey animals, any movement toward them typically triggers them to move away. It's a programmed response. Also a natural inclination is their desire to "get along;" not to please. As domestic livestock companians, they do what you train them to do. Therefore, my goal was to learn how to train them correctly to do what I needed and wanted them to do without triggering fear, a state in which llamas naturally operate.
Never look into a her eyes. Direct eye contact to a llama is naturally an aggressive form of communication. Instead, I learned to keep my eyes on her nose. When he moved into the round pen, a small 10x10 area, with his first subject, he communicated the importance of waiting for the right moments to mark. John said, "90% of time spent training is waiting for the opportunity to reward the animal." I thought back to the ways I'd used food to reward my llamas while clicker training. He spoke adamantly against using food as a reward, and he sited the way llamas interact with each other in nature.
He explained that mothers never directly hand over feed to their cria. Instead, the transferance of food from one llama to another is actually the yielding of power. So each time I used to reward/feed my llama, I communicated a loss of dominance each time. John explained the use of food to reward or communicate praise is better suited for predatory animals, like dogs. For llamas, however, Mallon emphasized reward enough for the llama is the release of pressure.
In the round pen, John turned to face the llama. It looked off toward the livestock trailers housing other llamas. He put upon her some pressure by walking toward her. Subsequently, she sensed the pressure and turned to face John. As a reward, John turned his back to her and walked to the other side of the pen. Release of pressure.
By using the round pen, John demonstrated the importance of serving the role of a facilitator rather than a trainer.
"Set up the llama with situations in which it can learn on its own and succeed," John said. I watched him as he did just that, encouraging the llama to overcome distraction and pay attention. It didn't take long for the llama to give him her complete attention because when John turned his back after about 6 times, she turned to directly face him as if to say, "Yes, Sir. I see you. What would you have me do now?"
John spent time progressing each llama that others brought to him from their trailers. He gained their attention, he progressed to letting him approach them, he facilitated the trust of the llama needed for him to touch and pet them. I watched him act assertively, not by sneaking up to get a chance to swipe his hand across their backs, but by making his intention known, carrying out the plan, and then releasing the pressure within a span of seconds.
After a long day of watching and learning, I decided to put my newly learned skills to work on Vetta and Lada, separately. The work Niki had done with them prior to the clinic helped, and I marveled at the way those girls responded so positively and quickly to the "release of pressure" reward. Within just 5 releases, Lada understood my intentions, turned to face me directly in the middle of the round pen, and then held her position while she not only let me approach her, but pet her, too. Vetta, about one month older and with a bit more training by Niki using the Mallon techniques, also allowed me to brush her, unhaltered and unrestrained, in the middle of the roundpen.
Before we left for home on the final day, John made sure to clearly communicate: "You don't have to be patient; you can act patient." By watching John address some particularly faulty behaviors over and over again, it seemed hard to think that anyone without a healthy supply of patience could possibly have the same success as him. Yet he challenged all of us to exert patience and to exercise focus on each task because, "The choice a llama makes for herself will last forever."
The best lessons are never forced or coerced. Forever, may the relationships I establish with my animals, be nothing short of full and prosperous. Thank you, John Mallon.