*Note: The time stamp on my digital
camera is broken, so the date on our photos is incorrect, in spite of them
being current.
One Little Pony, One Big Heart
As I entered the dimly
lit barn, I wondered if the abused, little pony I was there to pick up was
even inside. There were no other horses in the barn and it looked like the
rickety old building hadn’t really been used in a while. Soon enough,
though, a little black head popped over the top of one of the doors. What I
saw was not for the faint at heart.
The person who owned
this barn had found this pony wandering in the woods bleeding from his legs,
mouth, and head. Someone had tied him up by an ear, his lip, and his back
legs and sterilized (gelded) him with no anesthesia. He had obviously
broken free, probably due to the pain, and run away. During his escape, the
pony had ripped his entire right ear off, as well as part of his upper lip.
He had torn the flesh on his legs as well, leaving bloody lines where the
ropes had been. The person who found him had been hiding him for a couple
of months and, unfortunately, had made his medical condition considerably
worse by not having his wounds treated.
Amazingly enough, the
animals I go to rescue always know that I’m there to get them. There was an
instant bond between this little guy and me. Even with the horribly
festering wound where his ear used to be and with it swelling all the way
down to his nose, he let me put a halter right on him…he completely knew I
was his ticket to a new, better life. I took him out of the stall, walked
him around a bit, and walked him right onto the open horse trailer I had
waiting outside. The trust he placed in me that day has never wavered for a
moment.
When he got to Whisper
Ranch, volunteers, family and I settled on the name “Bishop” for him.
Bishop’s next few months were spent on medical care and trust building with
the rest of the world. Let me tell you, trust building is quite a challenge
for a little guy going through multiple surgeries and daily wound care.
Every day, I took time with Bishop to lead him around and practice going all
over the Ranch. You’d be amazed at all the places that horse treats manage
to hide, waiting to be found by a brave little pony. <wink, wink>
I knew that Bishop had
an incredible future. I knew it the moment his little wounded head popped
over the stall door. If there is any one gift that equips me to do this
work, it is the ability to see these animals as they *ought* to be. When
Bishop healed, he would work in our Community Outreach Program and be a
shining example of kindness, unconditional love, forgiveness, and overcoming
adversity. So, we practiced for this work several times a week during his
recovery. Day by day, he learned to go into small rooms, walk on strange
surfaces, stand tied for volunteers, walk up and down steps, stand near a
wheelchair, and to accept all sorts of other therapy related situations. As
his wounds healed, so did his spirit and heart. Bishop was gaining purpose
along with new-found confidence and health.
Bishop’s first therapy
visit came on Halloween this year. For the last couple of years, Whisper
Ranch has dressed up the miniature horses and donkeys in our program in
costumes and taken them to a nursing home to give out candy and visit with
residents on Halloween. I decided that Bishop was ready to come along and
we’d see how things went. His last major trust issue centered on the place
where his ear used to be. To keep people’s hands off of that area, I
dressed him in a cowboy hat for the event. I was concerned about him having
a bad experience because residents inevitably want to pat these guys on the
head like big puppy dogs. He wasn’t going to wear a hat to every visit,
though, so he’d have to find his way on this issue at some point.
One of the traits of a
good therapy animal is the ability to recognize someone who needs their help
and to then be the animal that the person needs in that *moment*. I marvel
at this intrinsic, untrainable quality. An animal either has it or they
don’t. It is either a part of who they are or it isn’t. I’m not talking
about the ability to stand or sit still while someone pets you. That’s
great, but I’m talking about knowing whether someone needs a kiss, a hug,
silliness, calmness, a face toward them, or a face away from them. Those
are the animals that are truly therapy animals. Would Bishop turn out to be
the therapy pony I thought he would?
Bishop’s second therapy
visit was at a very large facility. Two buildings of residents met outside
to see the animals. There were nearly 50 residents, which is at least twice
as many as my guys are used to visiting. We’d be very busy trying to get to
everyone and give them adequate time and attention. And Bishop did *not*
have his hat. He was very brave and went willingly into nooks and crannies
with multiple residents surrounding him; situations that made the other
animals nervous. Bishop held his head up, smart enough to direct people’s
hands to his neck or his nose or his back. He changed energy level and
personality for each individual he met. With some people, he simply stood
still. With others, he was silly and clever. He playfully used his teeth
try to take the bag off the front of one resident’s walker. Everyone loved
him. There was one resident, though, that *he* decided needed him more than
the others.
The small framed woman
sat in her chair blankly staring into some other time and place that the
rest of us could not see. She was vacant and distant. Bishop walked to her
and insisted that she notice him. He gently placed his head in her lap,
exposing his ear site to her completely. One of the nurses tried to get her
attention and took her hand and made her pet him. Her efforts were
admirable, but didn’t cause the frail, little woman to check in mentally
with us. She was not going to be forced or jarred into coming back from
wherever she was.
Bishop knew what she
needed. He continued to rest his head in her lap…just being there with
her…breathing warm pony breath on her and presumably visiting her in
whatever empty emotional place she had gone, inviting her back with us.
Slowly, after a few minutes, the woman’s gaze began to come down from
nowhere and look us in the eye. She looked me in the eye and then looked
past me to Bishop. She then picked up her own hand, something no one
guessed she had the motor skills to do, and began to pet Bishop. She was
rubbing him where his ear used to be. He held perfectly still, knowing what
she needed, and gave that vulnerability of himself. She then looked over at
me, eye to eye, and said one word that spoke it all, “apple”. That meant,
“thank you” and “I’m with you” and “I love him” and “I know what he is and
what he likes.” The staff was dumbfounded. Me…I knew that Bishop had
arrived at his purpose. This is exactly where he was always meant to be.
The next time
you long to connect with what is right and good in the world, think of
Bishop. Think of the little pony who overcame overwhelming adversity,
forgave the human race for abusing him, and now works to make the world a
more loving, accepting, unconditionally giving place. Think of how
*you* can do even a little bit of what Bishop will do for the rest of his
life. Reach out to someone who needs you and make their life better.
My wish for you is that they will look you in the eye and say, “Apple”.
Shannon Smith is the President, Founder, &
Executive Director of
Whisper Ranch, Inc., a 501c3 Non Profit
Equine Rescue
www.whisperranch.org
If you would like to
make a donation, it is tax deductible!
ssmith@whisperranch.org
