If you are considering equine-assisted occupational therapy, this account of my first session may be of interest to you. The specialisation is mostly for helping children with emotional problems but it also covers the field of riding for the disabled. In my case, I need help getting back into the saddle after many years of not riding and learning new ways of interacting with horses.
I arrived at the stables wearing jeans, rubber-soled shoes and a tracksuit top. The first thing I was asked to do was enter the stable and meet the horse I would be riding. This wasn't as easy as it sounds because the stable appeared very dark and I had to be directed towards the horse's head. Even then, it took me a while to realise that I wasn't facing her nose as I had assumed, but her right side.
My mount, I was told, was a palomino Boerperd named Lola. Trained to work with children and handle almost anything, she was very quiet. I got to pet her thoroughly, from her head to her tail, including her tummy, chest and legs, and I have to say, she tolerated it admirably.
The next part of the session involved basic grooming with a curry comb and brush. Lola had already been groomed and her coat was very smooth from having been shaved. Then I picked up each of her feet to have her hooves cleaned. This close interaction with such a big animal could have been very scary but I held my fear at bay. I reminded myself that I had once done this sort of thing without a care in the world and that there was absolutely no evidence that I was in danger. Later, i allowed, I could reflect on how close I had come to those powerful back legs and big teeth, but for the moment, I was there to get my senses accustomed to long-forgotten shapes and planes, textures and movements.
I was given the choice of riding with a saddle or a bareback pad and I chose the latter. One of the things I was most concerned about was my ability to balance on the horse without visual cues. Riding as close to bareback as possible would, I knew, put me in more direct contact with the horse and make it easier to feel its subtle shifts in direction and length of stride. When I fitted the bareback pad on Lola's back and buckled up the girth, it took me back to all the times I saddled my pony Hazelnut, giving me a pang of nostalgia.
It was then time to proceed to the arena. A young girl led Lola from her stable on a halter and I walked with the hippotherapist, using the sighted guide method of mobility to avoid stumbling on the path. They helped me mount from a wall, after which I simply had to hold the strap at the front of the bareback pad and focus on settling into Lola's rhythm.
Being a big horse, Lola had a long stride and I matched it easily with the rocking of my body. We walked on both reins, that is, in a clockwise direction around the arena and an anticlockwise direction. There were poles spaced at different intervals on the ground, designed to help me feel the little pauses that occurred just before she stepped over something in the path. There were also bigger jumps which Lola had to lift her feet to get over, and here the shift in stride was a little more noticeable. We weaved through upright oil drums and then walked around them in a tight circle so I could feel the stretching and contracting of Lola's body. After that, we did a short ride outside the arena along a path that led down a slope and up the other side.
This completed the session, and although we had done nothing but walk, I felt suitably exercised, both physically and mentally. The experience dislodged memories from long ago, which was in itself valuable. I'm realising that there is so much more to this journey than just polishing up my riding skills and I look forward to sharing my discoveries with you.
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