James saddled his horse and led him twice around the arena, then mounted and directed the graceful animal into an easy walk. He repeated the coach’s order to trot, and Jack, the Welsh pony, picked up his stride. James rose and fell in rhythm with the horse’s gait, posting, they called it.
It was another easy therapy session for him. Somehow, being in the saddle helped him deal with his autism and gave him another item for focus in his narrow search for knowledge, but nothing prepared him for this.
Jack tripped.
Even though the arena is smooth, horses, just like people, can stumble, and Jack was going down. With reflexes I didn’t know he had, James caught a plank of the arena fencing. He stayed in the saddle, held the reins and kept Jack from falling.
Coach Amy walked over to James. Jack had already recovered, but James was shaken and had dismounted.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Great job, keeping Jack from falling.”
He shivered. “Thanks.”
“Why don’t you lead him out of the arena and take off his tack? You know the drill.”
James groomed the horse without argument.
The next lessons weren’t so smooth. James still had frayed nerves and refused to do anything more than a slow walk. He avoided Jack, too, previously his favorite horse. The coaches were familiar with that reaction and remained patient, yet determined. By the time six months had passed, James was trotting and posting again. This time, he chose an English saddle.
“Why aren’t you using a Western saddle?” I asked after a recent lesson.
“I want to compete like Ian, and I have to use this saddle.”
James may have learned more than he thought. A worthwhile goal always helps you up after a fall.
William R. Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.