In March this year Jojo turned four, and she became eligible to be a rider at a nearby horse ranch. Not just any horse ranch, it is a non-profit that provides therapeutic horseback riding exclusively for disabled people. Finally. Jojo has a thing. Something that is just for her.
On the drive to her first ride I was in awe. The ranch is in Nicaso, a small village about a 45 minute drive north west from our home. Nicaso is a tiny rural village with a population of 96. It is a beautiful part of Northern California with rolling hills and redwood trees. Much of the area is used for agriculture. The hillsides are dotted with cows in every direction. There are organic farms, even some small vineyards.
That first day was tough. Jojo wasn’t having it. For any young child, the unknown is scary. Something new and out of routine is confusing and disorienting. And not being able to have a conversation with Jojo ahead of time to explain and set her expectations meant absolute terror for her. Getting the helmet on was the first battle and I didn’t come out unscathed but got it done. Next was getting her on the horse. I really didn’t think it was going to happen on the first day. But these people are serious professionals. We stood on a raised platform, and I held Jojo as they brought over Skippy the pony. They whisked her out of my arms and onto Skippy and began walking toward the riding arena, which is at least a football field length from where the parents and caregivers are allowed to watch. She screamed bloody murder for about 10 minutes. I hid behind a tree, peeking around to watch. She finally quieted. I could see from afar she was happy. Her arms were flapping and wiggling, much like what she does when I arrive home from work at night. I was elated.
She rode for half an hour, with three adults – a guide on either side of her and a horse guide leading. When her time was up they started back to the platform and I came out of hiding. As soon as she saw me she started crying again. More evidence to support the study that kids are 800% worse when their mothers are in the room (satirical study here).
Now, six months later, when Wednesday afternoon rolls around and it is time to go to Nicasio, there are no tears. There are no screams, no need to hide behind trees. Jojo is so excited, she says “Skippy” over and over in the car on the way there. She loves riding. She comes alive. It gives her independence for that brief time while she’s riding. She’s able to move without being carried. She feels the movement of Skippy and that gives her muscles input, much like if she were walking on her own. That creates new neural pathways in her brain, rewiring it so she can walk one day. She builds her core strength and balance. And, maybe most important and least scientific is that horses are just cool. They can sense and understand human emotion. Riders bond with their horses and develop trust, confidence, patience, focus.
Side note – I highly recommend the movie The Mustang if you haven’t seen it.
Therapeutic horseback riding is becoming more and more trusted to have tangible therapeutic benefits to people with disabilities. It has brought such Joy into Jojo’s life and thus my life. Hooray for horses!
Jojo The Strong 