By Molly Knight Sun Staff
Originally published March 14, 2004
From outside the fenced ring, the tiny girl looks motionless atop the broad, slightly curved back of the horse - a brown-and-white bay with dark, fluttering eyes. The child's body, soft and slumped forward, is supported by an adult who sits behind her, grasping her waist and encouraging her to straighten her back.
"Lift your
head up," coos the instructor as they clop slowly around the ring. "Good
girl."
From a distance, the toddler -
who suffers from cerebral palsy - looks too small for the big, ambling
horse. And she looks as if she's asleep. It's not until the horse comes to
a stop that the reason for the ride becomes apparent.
"Did you have
fun, Brianna?" asks her mother, Dana Costello, who first heard about
therapeutic horseback riding in Anne Arundel County last
year.
"More!" shouts the 3-year-old, laughing.
For Costello,
the response is yet another sign that for her daughter, who has difficulty
controlling the muscles in her upper body, horseback riding is a
help.
"She's only been out here a few times, and I already notice a
difference," says Costello, a Baltimore County resident. "Her abdominal
muscles are getting stronger, and she's reaching for her toys - which she
couldn't do a few weeks ago."
Founded by Annapolis
resident Naomi Parry in 1996, Maryland Therapeutic Riding - located on
Arden Farms, a sprawling, 10-acre property in Crownsville - is one of more
than 700 equine programs across the country that help disabled people
overcome challenges through riding and contact with horses.
There
are more than a dozen such programs in Maryland, according to the North
American Riding for the Handicapped Association.
At Maryland
Therapeutic Riding, Parry and 20 NARA-certified instructors work with
people who have a wide range of disabilities, including cerebral palsy,
spina bifida, autism and attention-deficit disorder.
To those who
fear horses and the injuries that can result from riding, healing through
horses might sound suspect. But practitioners of therapeutic riding argue
that there's nothing like the steady, rhythmic gait of a horse to
stimulate human back, leg, hip and abdominal muscles.
Experts also
say the connection between horse and human - a relationship that
horse-lovers have long tried to articulate - is what makes therapeutic
riding so effective for some people with disabilities.
"That bond
is just amazing," said Parry. "It's like the horse provides some people
with a safe relationship. They can relate to the horse better than [to]
humans - they are such gentle animals."
Studies by the American
Hippotherapy Association have shown that riding improves muscle tone,
balance, posture and emotional well-being in people with disabilities
-especially children with motor-control conditions such as cerebral palsy.
Even the warmth of a horse's body is said to help riders with spastic
muscles, relaxing their limbs and causing them to feel safe and
comfortable.
"Equine therapy is a budding field," said Bethany Lee,
an occupational therapist on the board of the American Hippotherapy
Association. "As the research builds, more people will begin to take a
better look at it as an option. From my own experience, I hardly ever see
a patient for whom it's not effective."
Parry agreed: "Horses help
ground people that are otherwise agitated, frustrated or can't communicate
- people whose lives are difficult. These people stand face to face with a
horse and this serenity takes over."
Parry began riding at age 17,
a year after a devastating car accident left her unable to participate in
most sports. On a whim, she signed up for a cross-country horseback riding
class while attending Westchester University in Pennsylvania. After a few
classes, Parry said, she was hooked.
"I have not been away from
horses since that day," she said.
Since Parry founded Maryland
Therapeutic Riding, the nonprofit organization has attracted more than 90
riders a session, each of which ranges from five to eight weeks and costs
about $360. (The classes are covered by some insurance
companies.)
Parry said she and her instructors witness such
significant improvements in their riders that they often are moved to
tears.
There's the story of a 3-year-old who, after five weeks of
riding, broke into her first, wobbly run at the sight of her horse. And a
5-year-old suffering from selective mutism - a social anxiety disorder -
spoke in public for the first time on the back of her horse, whispering
"walk on" into his ear.
"It's the magic of a horse," said
instructor Kerrie Mansfield, who left her job as a medical technician last
year to work as an instructor at Arden Farms. "Everything about them is
healing. I've seen riders who won't even look people in the eye come in
and look for their horse and their friends in the ring."
Randi
Cowart of Baltimore County said her 6-year-old son, Tyler - who is
autistic - talks often about Teddy, the snow-white horse he rides once a
week at Maryland Therapeutic. Since her son began riding, Cowart said she
has noticed marked progress in his physical strength.
"His balance
and coordination have improved so much," she said. "He also just loves his
horse."
Parry says the horses at Maryland Therapeutic are recruited
for their unusually calm demeanor.
"They have to be absolutely
bomb-proof," she said, adding that her horses remain unruffled when riders
make loud noises or jerking motions.
Perhaps the horses' own
histories make them relate so well to their riders, Parry said. Ellie, an
Appaloosa, was rescued from an abusive owner who starved her until she was
skeletal. Ellie is now one of the riding center's most unshakable
horses.
On a recent afternoon, volunteers at Maryland Therapeutic
pushed 13-year-old Jay Finnegan up a ramp in his wheelchair to greet his
horse. After unbuckling the numerous straps on his chair, the volunteers
picked him up and boosted him onto the horse, who remained completely
still.
Jay can't walk, and has difficulty communicating. He
occasionally writhes with what looks like discomfort. But from the moment
he was lifted onto his horse and the pair began to walk slowly into the
muddy ring, a distinct smile broke across the boy's face.
"Good
job, Jay," the instructors called out, walking by his side to secure his
place on the horse's back. "Way to go."
Copyright © 2004, The Baltimore Sun