A Horse Named Justin

When Noah was diagnosed with Aspergers, and all that went with it, we tried many therapies.  We invested a lot of money (which we would do again in a heartbeat), time and effort in them.  Nothing stuck though.  Noah had to be a willing participant, and at the time, he just wasn't quite there.  It was frustrating for all of us, and we saw almost no improvement in Noah.

Enter therapy horseback riding.

At my wit's end one day, I emailed a friend from church in tears.  Knowing she rode, I asked if she knew of any place local that participated in horse therapy.  I had done some research on it, and it was something I wanted to try for Noah.  As it happened, she didn't just know of such a place, but she was a therapist there!

Having grown up where horses served two purposes--farm work, or pleasure riding for the 'social elite,' my husband balked at the expense.  We were not horse people.  We could not afford to be horse people.  We finally agreed to give it a try, and Shawn wound up having to take Noah to his first lesson.  I got the call soon after, as we headed home from different destinations: "Honey, this was more than worth it.  I don't know how we'll manage, but we'll figure it out."  One lesson with Molly had convinced my husband that this was the answer we'd been searching for.  We may not have been horse people, but we were certainly this-is-the-best-thing-to-happen-for-our-son people.

Within weeks, we saw improvements in Noah, from his confidence level and general mood, to his comprehension and problem solving skills, that we hadn't seen in months of other combined therapies.  Noah was noticeably calmer for several hours after his lessons, and eventually, those hours turned into days at a time.  There was definitely a difference between the weeks he rode, and the weeks he didn't.  Noah was just a different boy entirely when atop a horse.  I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I will always be to the instructors, and especially, the horses.  This farm, these horses, these instructors--were all answers to many prayers.

Over time, Noah's instructors began seeing things in him that indicated he would be good at ground work.  They saw reason to give him more responsibility, and to challenge him. He began riding Justin, and only flourished more.  He worked with Justin weekly, both riding, and on the ground. It was said around the farm that while Justin did have other riders, the only two he really seemed to enjoy being with were Noah and another gentleman. They had a connection, something just clicked between the two of them.  Noah's instructors tried him on other horses, but he just didn't have the connection with them.  He could ride them, make them do what he wanted them to do, but it wasn't the seemingly telepathic connection that he and Justin shared.

Noah rode Justin for nearly three years.  When Noah would go out to the fields to bring him in, I could hear Justin whinny for him, eager to see his boy.  He would greet Noah so happily, just excited to see him.  When Noah's dog died, Justin was there for him in the weeks that followed.  With life's ups and downs, Justin was a constant.  I teased Noah that they were meant for each other, both of them being obstinate teenage boys.  One afternoon I had the chance to hug Justin; I remember burying my face in his mane, tears in my eyes, just thanking him and telling him how grateful I would always be to him.

This weekend, we had to say goodbye to our dear friend, companion and therapist.  Two weeks ago, Justin became very sick, and did not get better.  Justin died this weekend, surrounded by the instructors who love him just as much as we do.  He is now free of pain, made whole, running wild and free.  I like to think he is busy doing what he did best here on Earth, entertaining children, and taking it easy in his spare time.  My heart is broken--for us, for my child, for the other riders and their families, for his caretakers and instructors.  We have begun the process of mourning, our grief deep and profound.  I worry that riding will never be the same for Noah, but I'm proud of him for wanting to continue.  Justin was more than just a horse.

Justin was the therapy center's horse, but I will always think of him with Noah, as "our" horse.  A boy and his horse, a horse and his boy.  I will always be grateful, and I will always love that horse.  Justin knew his job, and he took it seriously.

Thank you Justin.  We love you, we always will, and we miss you.  Thank you for everything.  Run free, dear boy.