The Gifts We Receive from Animals

Stories to Warm the Heart

Lori R. Kogan, Lori R. Kogan

• Editore: Routledge
• Anno: 2022
• ISBN:
  9781000646818
• Edizione: 1
• Argomento: Psychology
• Categoria: Psychotherapy Counselling

The Gifts We Receive from Animals is a book guaranteed to brighten a reader's day. Professionals engaged in therapy work as well as those who have companion animals at home will enjoy learning about the many ways in which animals impact people's lives. Through a series of short, true-life stories, written by professionals engaged in animal assisted interventions, The Gifts We Receive from Animals reminds readers of the core essence of the human animal bond and the reason behind the growing phenomenon of animal assisted interventions. Readers will learn, for example, about the young child who shares her inner most thoughts with a dog and, as a result, learns how to talk with people; the soldier who feels comfortable and safe with a dog, a feeling he has been lacking since active duty; and the elderly adult who works through difficult physical therapy because of his therapy dog. The Gifts We Receive from Animals takes readers on a delightful journey, offering insights into the unique impact animals have in the lives of those they help.

Part 1Large Animals

1Freedom

Hilary Adams

DOI: 10.4324/9781003204534-2

Sometimes, when I’m working with a client, the hardest part is the letting go. Letting go of what is no longer needed, and what is holding the clients back from moving forward.

It was a lovely, late August afternoon when Cynthia and I met. It was warm, but not too warm, and the light filtered through an overhanging tree that gave us shelter and a feeling of security. We were at a small farm location, out away from the house, by the pasture. My horse co-coach, Ray, a tall, red-haired guy with a sweet, kind nature and special fondness for hugs and apples, was hanging out by the fence of the round pen, only a few feet from where we sat in our two folding chairs.

Cynthia had arrived certain that what we were looking at for this session was her schedule. It was packed, left no room for what she called “extras,” and served everyone’s needs but her own. One of her values, something that kept coming up each time we spoke, was the idea of freedom. Her schedule was the opposite of freedom. It was like she woke up in shackles every day.

Each time we circled near the challenge of the schedule though, she’d get all tense, her body would almost curl, and she’d inhale and not exhale for a good long time. It was clearly fear, but of what? She needed to stand up and physically embody the journey toward the origin point of this behavior.

So, as we do with equine gestalt work, I turned toward Ray and asked if he’d help us out. We’d already introduced the two of them early in the session, and Cynthia had no fear of horses and was eager to go into the round pen with him.

I asked her to go to the center and drop her energy into the ground and take some deep breathes. Ray, a coaching pro, went right over, ready to work. I then asked her to walk to the fence of the round pen. Ray followed. They slowly walked a circle, which turned into a spiral. As she walked, she thought back to when she first remembered feeling this sense of being shackled to a schedule, this deep requirement of responsibility to others at the expense of her own well-being. Ray followed right alongside, supporting her each step, stopping when she stopped, and being there for her to put her hand on for reassurance.

As she arrived toward the center of the spiral, Ray turned his body around so that he was facing her head on, dropping his eyes down so that he was looking right at her. Cynthia stopped, met his gaze, and said, “You’re right.”

As the human coach, I had no idea what Ray was right about, and it did not matter. He was communicating with her, and she was somewhere else with him, in a landscape I was not inhabiting. She began to cry, and Ray stood without moving as she wrapped her arms around her neck, burying her face into him.

After a long moment, as she slowly stopped crying, she kept her hands on Ray and turned to include me in the discovery she’d made. “I was always taking care of my siblings,” she said, running a hand along Ray’s neck as he sighed with contentment.

That was how I felt I mattered, how I felt loved. I didn’t want to. I wanted to go out and play, do my things, but I couldn’t. That would be selfish. And that’s what I’m doing now. My schedule is little me desperately wanting love. My family loves me, and I love them. I don’t need to schedule like this. I can find a different way. I want to let this way go.

This is the hardest moment for clients; it takes great courage, this letting go of the old to move into the new.

I joined them in the round pen, carrying a halter, lead rope, and saddle pad. I told her, I want you to put this saddle pad onto Ray, imagining it’s this old form of scheduling, this old idea that, unless you took care of everyone, every minute of every day, you would not be loved, put all of that whole feeling into this pad and then onto Ray. He’ll carry it away for you.

And that’s what he did, this tall red horse, a wise coach with four hooves. I haltered Ray as she held the pad for a good long moment, before putting it carefully onto Ray’s back.

Cynthia quietly said, “Thank you Ray, thank you.”

Ray exhaled, and, without me asking, started to move, carrying the old away for her, seemly as eager to get rid of it as she was.

Cynthia, her voice trembling with excitement, called out after us as we left the round pen, “I’m free. I’m free!”

Discussion Questions:

1. 1How do you feel that Ray helped facilitate Cynthia’s insight?
2. 2Explain why riding Ray was not necessary for Cynthia to benefit from his participation in the session.

2A Children’s Riding LessonHow Therapeutic Riding Helped a Boy to Find His Voice

Anne M.C. Barnfield

DOI: 10.4324/9781003204534-3

A children’s riding lesson: what comes to mind? Maybe children calling out to one another, giggling, chatting, making noise. You would probably think something like this because that is what most children would do. Most, but not all, however. For all human behavior there is a range, a continuum. Most people are somewhere in between the extremes of any measure; some, however, are at those extremes.

Among the issues characterized by the American Psychological Association (APA) as “neurodevelopmental disorders” are the Autism Spectrum Disorders (ASDs). Each person diagnosed with ASD is unique, with different symptoms and their own specific abilities. Because of the range of characteristics, this condition is named a “spectrum” disorder, whereby anyone can be at some point along a line, a spectrum.

Children with ASDs are good at perception (e.g., seeing details), but poorer at “theory of mind”, the understanding of another’s perspective. It is very difficult for a child with an ASD to see a situation from another’s point of view. While understanding of others’ thinking usually begins around age four in typically developing children, those diagnosed with an ASD have difficulty understanding the viewpoint of others. Imagine interacting with one who behaves this way, someone who doesn’t understand that you may feel differently, see things differently – that you are a totally different person.

Even “high-functioning” children with ASDs have difficulties with the subtleties of social interaction and communication. It may seem far-fetched, particularly to those who do not often interact with or care for animals, but activities with animals such as riding lessons can have remarkable effects for children with ASDs.

One example of such effects is given by a boy whom I will call “Evan”. Evan was a participant in a study on effectiveness of therapeutic riding (TR) for children. Through the TR sessions, I would watch what went on, sitting quietly on the sidelines, noting specific behaviors and interactions.

When he started riding lessons, Evan was not calling out or making noise, he didn’t giggle or chatter – on the contrary, he was quiet, withdrawn, and non- communicative. There was practically no social interaction seen in that first observation, just the odd “yes” or “no” in response to a direct question from the instructor. Even after ten weekly sessions, although Evan appeared a bit more engaged, he was still quite withdrawn. There was still little talking to, or interacting, with others in the group. Evan did interact more with the pony he was riding, however, patting its neck and quietly saying things like “good boy”. One time the instructor questioned this, asking “Why did you say that?” Avoiding eye contact, Evan replied quietly but emphatically “he is!” All the ponies at the TR center are selected for steadiness, calmness, and good nature, and Toby, the dapple-grey pony which Evan had been assigned for his lessons, was no exception.

Near the end of another ten weeks of weekly sessions, a remarkable thing happened. Evan and another child, “Alex”, were both riding their respective ponies. The instructor asked about trying a game, both children said “yes”; Evan with a single word answer, Alex enthusiastically saying “Yes, please!” What was astonishing was what happened next. The children had to take turns and the instructor asked: “Who’d like to go first?” Evan spoke up immediately, saying “You go first Alex, go on”. Everyone present (instructor, parents, even me) held our breath as the instructor said: “You’re OK with Alex going first?” “Yes”, Evan replied, “That’s alright, Alex can go first, he wants to”. Not only had Evan responded, he’d responded with more than a single word answer and, most heartwarming, had thought of the other child and his wants, putting that other person first. Near end of the sessions, after 19 riding lessons, Evan answered questions and gave a full response including consideration of the other child in the lesson – amazing!

In an earlier study, a parent had told me about another child who had a hard time talking properly to people, talking “at” people, not “to” them. He explained that he had seen a lot of improvement in his child’s interactions with other people and felt it was his son’s interaction with the ponies that made the difference.

Here, I saw that happen myself. I realized that the special bond Evan had formed with Toby had worked its magic – it had helped Evan interact better with the people around him. His ability to connect with Toby translated into an increased ability to connect with others – truly representing the unique gifts that animals can offer to children like Evan.

Discussion Questions:

1. 1What about working with a service dog – how would you encourage interaction with a dog, to achieve a similar outcome?
2. 2How might we use this type of animal interaction to aid a child in a school classroom?

3The Sundance Center

Erica Jex Gergely

DOI: 10.4324/9781003204534-4

Out in the pasture, I felt a sense of excitement and fear as I stood with the horses grazing freely. Until recently, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d even been near a horse, and now, here I was in their space – their world – up close and personal. I couldn’t help but think, how did I get here?

I was twenty-seven years old and a hard-working clinical psychology graduate student looking for a creative outlet to de-stress. This search led me to taking beginner horseback riding lessons at a nearby hobby farm that provided more peacefulness and tranquility than I’d ever imagined possible. Sometimes I’d visit the horses, not to ride, but to simply be with them; it was calming and relaxing.

Being a graduate student with an eye toward research studies and my nose often buried in books, it didn’t take long for me to begin formally exploring the connection between horses and humans. I wondered if the calming effect I felt while with horses was real. Was there any evidence of an actual horse-human bond? My brief search led me to the discovery of equine-assisted services, and I was eager to learn as much as I could.

Much to my surprise, I found a local psychologist who practiced equine-assisted therapy. After a brief conversation, she kindly invited me to her farm to participate in my own equine-assisted learning (EAL) session.

That’s how I got here, at The Sundance Center.

That’s how I found myself out in the pasture alongside the horses.

Now with the added task instructors invited me to try: “Choose a horse and lead it over the raised log”.

The horses weren’t haltered nor were there any ropes nearby. How on earth will I get either horse to move? Is this a trick? I thought silently.

After asking several clarifying questions, and receiving mostly noncommittal answers, I reluctantly started. Here goes nothing.

The beauty of the red horse, Sydney, quickly drew me to her, and as I approached, she willingly stepped closer with a gentle curiosity, nuzzling, and nudging me with her nose. It seemed as if we connected almost instantaneously, and as her head draped over my shoulder, I could feel the trust building. With the task in mind, I decided to walk toward the log, and sure enough, she followed me! Over the log I hopped, and so did she – but almost immediately it fell. I knew that was too good to be true.

With Sydney still in tow, we circled back around to attempt again, this time picking up some speed. Three legs cleared the log before it came crashing down. Fail. For the next half hour, Sydney and I worked side by side to jump over the log, and when it would fall after each attempt, I’d become ever more discouraged at my failure.

Finally, I paused and sheepishly asked the onlooking instructors, “Are you sure she can do this?” They both shrugged and matter-of-factly replied, “Oh, we have no idea!”

I couldn’t ...