Originally published in the September/October 2010 issue of The Sentinel: Voice of the Horse Industry in the Midwest

 

I stumbled onto Reiki about ten years ago. I’d never even heard of Reiki prior to that, but once I learned about it, I thought it might be a good addition to the Neuromuscular Retraining work I do with animals. “A good addition” turned out to be a major understatement. I had no idea what a powerful and versatile approach to healing Reiki would prove to be.

First, a definition: Reiki (pronounced ráy-key) is a healing practice that promotes physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual balance. Reiki treatments can be done in person or from a distance. Reiki is not a religion or belief system, and it works in conjunction with—and enhances—all other medical and therapeutic techniques. Reiki can never cause harm; it can only be used for healing.

There appears to have been a steady increase of interest in Reiki over the past few years, especially among animal lovers. This is wonderful news because animals are very open to this type of healing; they don’t question whether it is really happening; they just gratefully accept it—often with dramatic results.

Reputable Reiki practitioners do not diagnose illness.

Let me start out by saying that reputable Reiki practitioners do not diagnose illness. I periodically get calls from distraught animal owners who tell me their horse (or dog or cat) is ill and that they don’t know why and don’t know what to do. My answer is always the same: Call your veterinarian. This is because Reiki practitioners are not veterinarians and are not qualified to diagnose disease or the effects of physical injury.

However, Reiki is a powerful healing modality and an extremely effective complement to veterinary medicine.
Here’s a story. Some years ago, I arrived at the barn where my horse was boarded and found the owner in a frantic call to her vet. Her mare had been in the pasture enjoying the beautiful summer day when she’d suddenly begun violently shaking. The woman, I’ll call her Anne, had brought her horse into the barn, noticed that the horse’s gums were white, took her temperature, which was elevated by three or four degrees, and immediately called her veterinarian.
When Anne got off the phone, I asked if she wanted me to give her mare Reiki while she waited for the vet. She did. I went into the stall with Anne and gently placed my hands on the horse. Within seconds, the horse stopped shaking; within a minute, the color returned to her gums. After several minutes, Anne took the horse’s temperature again; it had dropped two degrees.

The veterinarian arrived a short time later, examined the horse, and couldn’t find anything wrong. No one was ever sure what exactly had triggered the episode. But Anne and I—and I’m sure her mare—were grateful that the Reiki had so quickly helped the mare’s body to alleviate the shock and to lower the elevated temperature.

Here’s another story. My horse, Nikos, had gotten a tetanus shot, and the next day he had a baseball sized knot at the injection site. The barn owner (different barn) was mucking stalls, and so I was talking to her while I held my hand over the knot, sharing Reiki but not paying much attention, just passing the time on a quiet Sunday afternoon.

After a few minutes, I noticed that the knot felt substantially smaller. I moved my hand, and sure enough, the knot had shrunk by about two-thirds. I couldn’t quite believe this myself, and so I said, “Hey, Sue, take a look at this. Is the knot smaller, or am I just imagining things?”

I’d only been at Sue’s barn for a week, and she hadn’t known much about Reiki up to that point, but when her mouth fell open in disbelief and she softly demanded to know how I’d done that, I figured she was seeing the same results I was. (This incident so convinced her of the power of Reiki that she went on to take both my Level I and Level II Reiki class so that, as a barn owner, she would have this tool in her toolbox, so to speak.)

Reiki can also be used to relieve the symptoms of stomach upset or colic (while you’re waiting for the vet), to reduce pain and swelling from overexertion, and to accelerate the healing process after any injury or surgery.

About six years ago, my Nikos stepped on my little dog Elika and dislocated her wrist. The veterinarian told me it was a bad dislocation and that she might never be totally sound. In any event it would take several months to heal. Because there was so much swelling, he put her leg in a soft cast, and instructed me to bring her back in three days so that he could put a hard cast on.

Over the course of those three days, I shared Reiki with Elika several times a day. When we returned to the vet for the hard cast, he was very surprised to discover that Elika no longer needed it. (I told him why, but . . .)  He warned me, however, that Elika could take months to heal and might always walk with a limp. But with daily Reiki, Elika was charging around at top speed in two weeks, completely sound. She has been sound ever since.

Reiki can also be used to help alleviate the physical stress of chronic illness. I have worked with many dogs and cats suffering with cancer, and have found that the Reiki alleviates their pain, increases their appetite, diminishes their depression, and increases their energy. Anecdotal evidence also indicates that Reiki can cause tumors to shrink, and I believe I have experienced this phenomenon as well.

Unlike humans, [animals] don’t question whether this type of healing is really possible; they just gratefully accept what they need, then move away.

The great thing about sharing Reiki with horses and other animals is that they love it. Unlike humans, they don’t question whether this type of healing is really possible; they just gratefully accept what they need, then move away.

I will always remember the first time I shared Reiki with my Nikos. I had just completed a  Level I Reiki class the day before and was so excited to practice with him. We took a trail ride first, and then I put him in his stall with some hay. When I placed my hands on him, his head immediately dropped, his eyes glazed over, and the hay fell out of his mouth. He stood motionless, completely transfixed, for the 20 minutes or so I worked with him.

Several days later, when I was again at the barn, I excitedly put my hands on Nikos to once again share Reiki with him. He gave me a look that said, “What are you doing?” and moved away from my hands. At first, I was confused by his behavior, but I came to understand that he—as well as other animals—knew when he needed Reiki and knew when he didn’t. Nikos loved Reiki and would ask for it often. In his final months of life, he and I shared Reiki time together nearly every night.

Reiki can also be used for emotional distress.
While many humans do not believe that animals have emotions, you and I know better. We’ve seen our animals express joy, sadness, depression; we’ve witnessed them mourn the loss of a companion; we know when they are lonely or bored, excited, anxious, in love.

Of course the positive emotions do not present any problems, but when our animals are fearful, sad, grieving, overwhelmed, lonely, or depressed, we want to do what we can to help them.

Some years ago, I was at the barn visiting my horse. In a previously unoccupied stall, was a new horse, a lovely bay Morgan. He was turned around in the stall with his head in a back corner; his posture reflected total dejection. I stood outside the stall to quietly introduce myself to him, but before I could say a word, I was overcome with a terrible grief. The feeling was so strong that I actually began to cry. I was not grieving, or even unhappy, so I knew that the emotion had to be coming from him.

My immediate reaction was to make the Reiki signs and begin sharing healing with him. After a minute or so, he lifted his head, then turned to face me. He walked the few steps toward me, stuck his head over the stall guard and allowed me to stroke his face. He was still sad, but the terrible darkness had lifted. I told him that he would be OK, that he had nothing to worry about, that this was a good place to live.

When the owner of the barn came in, I asked her about the horse and told her what had happened. She said that the Morgan’s owner, a friend of hers, had brought him that morning and then left; she would be gone for several days on business, which was not ideal but was unavoidable. Apparently, the horse had been moved many times in his life by a string of previous owners; and each time he had been moved, he had been abandoned. No wonder he had been grief stricken! I returned to his stall, shared more Reiki, and assured him that his human companion would return in several days. He did not again express the awful grief he expressed that first day and seemed fairly well adjusted to his new home by the time his human returned.

While the Reiki helped to ease his pain and helped him to adjust to his new surroundings, a better approach would have been for him to have a Reiki session before the move, and to have someone explain the move to him before he ever got on the trailer.

My experience with sweet Welsh pony named Noble is a good example of how this works. Noble was extremely fearful of men and refused to be handled by them. He was also difficult to load into a trailer. Unfortunately, he had to move again, and the only person who was available to move him was a man. Noble’s owner (a woman) contacted me in an effort to put Noble’s mind at ease about the situation and with the hope of shortening the normally lengthy loading time, which could extend into hours.

In a session the night before the move, I shared Reiki with Noble while I visualized the trailer for him, visualized his stepping into it without fear, visualized the ride to his new home, and visualized his stepping off the trailer without incident and quietly leading to the pasture.

The next day, Noble’s owner called me from her car. She was driving behind the trailer, which was en route to the new barn. She excitedly told me that Noble had been completely unconcerned about the presence of the male handler, had jumped right onto the trailer, and was riding quietly. Later, she called to tell me he had unloaded just as easily as he had loaded and had quietly walked to his new pasture.

Can Reiki always change behavior? No, it can’t. Some behavior issues are training issues; others are a result of pain or discomfort, which can have a variety of causes, including unbalanced hooves, unbalanced teeth, poor saddle fit, an unbalanced rider, and nutritional deficiencies and toxicity.

The layers of the onion, so to speak, need to be peeled back.

And, of course, sometimes more than one session is necessary, the layers of the onion, so to speak, need to be peeled back. Several years ago, I worked from a distance with an elder draft, Leroy, who had been rescued from a killer pen out East. His spirit was broken. He would not socialize with the other horses in his new herd. He could not tolerate the touch of a human being. When I worked with him, his grief spilled out. He accepted the Reiki, and immediately began to heal.

His new human companion noticed the change in him immediately. But I asked to work with him two more times over the course of the next few weeks. Each time, Leroy came further out of his shell. By the end of the three sessions, he was loving being touched and groomed, started mingling with his herd, and was welcoming his human when she came out to the pasture.

While his human said that she could have gotten the results with natural training methods, she also said that it would have taken her months and that the results might never have been so profound.

Ollie was another horse who responded immediately to distance Reiki (coupled with neuromuscular retraining) but who completely turned around in three sessions. He had been so tense and fearful under saddle—which was making him a danger to ride—that his trainer (a kind and gentle woman) had suggested to Ollie’s human that she might need to find another horse. But Ollie wasn’t in fact fearful. In my first distance session with him, I discovered that he was in pain. He responded to the Reiki and neuromuscular retraining immediately and after three sessions became the model student: focused, willing, safe. (You can read Leroy’s and Ollie’s complete stories on my Website.)

And there are so many other ways that Reiki can help animals to heal.

I am in love with Reiki. It is a gentle, non-invasive, powerful, loving approach to healing. It connects both the practitioner and the receiver (the horse, dog, cat, human . . .) with Source energy, intelligence, and love. It has enriched my life and the lives of the animals I have had the honor assisting. I cannot imagine my life without it.

 

 

Kingsley, a six-year-old Welsh pony gelding who was under the impression he was a stallion, had been asked to move. Sweet-natured as he was, Kingsley was breaking down fences to be with “his mares,” who were in season. Lorraine, his human companion, had found a new boarding situation for him, one with a larger pasture, but she was concerned he would be depressed over the move or, a scary thought, even more unruly. She asked me to speak with him.

“Does she want me to be someone I’m not?” he asked almost as soon as the session began. I explained that, no, that wasn’t the case, but Lorraine would very much appreciate it if he stopped destroying fences. I also explained that he would be living closer to Lorraine, and so she would be working with him more often; he would have a job, and if all went well, he would have a child to work with in the fall. (Kingsley loves children.)

The next afternoon, Lorraine called me to say that Kingsley, who ordinarily was quite difficult to load, had jumped right onto the trailer, apparently eager to begin the next chapter in his life. At his new barn, he had jumped off the trailer in good spirits, curious yet calm about his new home. I’ve spoken with Lorraine subsequently, and she tells me that Kingsley is happy, has not broken down one fence, although there are mares present, and is progressing in his training with amazing speed.

Of course, speaking with a disruptive animal does not always result in a behavior change. As every horse lover knows, the creatures in our care-and that includes our dogs, our cats, our birds, our ferrets-are individuals. Some of them are just plain stubborn, and no amount of explaining, cajoling, or even pleading is going to change that.

But I have found that communicating with an animal usually does alter troublesome behavior-when the communication is a conversation; when I ask what is wrong and then listen to the answer; when I offer suggestions to the animal and explain boundaries; and when I accompany the conversation with Reiki (a type of energy healing) so that I can help to heal physical or emotional damage that may be contributing to the problem.

Franz, a beautiful young Friesian stallion, came to his new owner with serious behavior problems, among them biting, and bucking and rearing on the lunge line. Joyce-who used gentle, natural training methods-had been working with Franz for over a month and was certain that his issues were the result of a deep-seated fear; she asked me to try to find out what was troubling him. She wanted me to explain to him what his jobs would be (breeding stallion, trail horse, dressage) and to explain that she loved him and would never hurt him.

Because Franz had so much fear and pain in his body, I spent a large part of the session sending him Reiki healing. As I worked with him, I came to understand that he had been beaten at his previous barn. Physical trauma-as well as emotional or spiritual-leaves a mark in the energy field of a being. I most often see these marks as dark spots or holes in the energy field. I worked with Franz to heal the damage, to remove the darkness and fill the hole. I also sensed that he was tied in a large, tight knot, not only physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually as well. Using Reiki energy, we worked together to release this knot.

Franz spoke as we worked. He was grateful to be away from his previous barn but dearly missed one of the horses he had left behind. He was filled with sadness. I asked him what Joyce could do to help him. He said, “Be kind to me. Be patient. I have a good heart.” I asked him if he knew why he had come to Joyce. Without hesitation, he said, “To be healed.”

A few days later, I received an email from Joyce saying that Franz had responded to the session immediately. He was no longer showing signs of pain, was no longer frightened, and was working with focus and a sense of joy.

Was the change in him merely coincidental, or had something profound happened between us as we worked together? I, of course, believe it was the later. When I work with animals in this way, I hear their voices (which my brain translates into words); I see them and their surroundings or see an incident they have experienced; I often touch their skin or feel their breath on my face. I experience their emotions-joy, fear, depression, excitement-sense the presence of illness, and often receive information about their unique spiritual journey. I experience all of this across distance, from my quiet work space at home. Working from a distance, I can focus on the animal completely, without the noise of the barn or home, the interruptions of the curious; working from a distance, the animal and I can more fully speak soul to soul.

Is it possible for you to converse with your animal in this way? Oh, yes. Everyone is born with the ability to communicate telepathically, to receive messages without actual sensory contact. When the phone rings and you know who it is before you answer it, this is telepathy. When you know that a friend or family member is ill before you’re told, this is telepathy. Because our culture does not, as a rule, nurture this kind of knowing, many of us have forgotten how to fully use it. But the knowledge can be revived. You have already begun. You know when your horse is unhappy or tired or ill. You know when you may have pushed him too hard. You know when she is frightened or excited or content.

Each of us is also born with the ability to heal with energy-the substance that surrounds and connects us, the “soup” we are all floating in. While I have been initiated into Reiki, an ancient Japanese tradition, all cultures have ancient forms of energy healing. Some of us choose to dedicate our lives to this type of healing, and so our abilities are more refined, but each of us is capable of healing others with touch-if we take the time to learn how to reconnect with this ability, if we practice, if we stay connected to the energy source that sustains us.

Our horses spring from an ancient source. This is what draws us to them. They are magical, mystical, with stories to tell us that will enrich our lives, that can change its very course. Is it is worth the time and patience it takes to learn to listen, to learn to place a hand on a wither and ease another being’s pain? I believe that it is.

This article first appeared in the August/September 2004 issue of The Sentinel.

© 2006 by Pamela Sourelis

How Neuromuscluar Retraining Helped a House Rabbit Regain His Independence

By the time I was able to make the trip to Minneapolis to work with the Bun, his movement had been impaired for just over a year. His human companions, Mia and Paul, were not sure what had happened, but Bun had suddenly been unable to use his left hind leg, which after several months had begun to atrophy.

Bun had allowed me to work with him several years before when he had somehow strained his back (he and his human, Mia, had formerly been my neighbors in Chicago), so while he was a bit wary, being a bun, he was nevertheless willing to give me a chance.

Because I was spending the weekend in Minneapolis working with horses, I planned on working with Bun on three consecutive days. Because he was a bun, and not thrilled about being excessively handled, we kept the sessions short, about 20 minutes apiece.

In our first session, late on the evening of my arrival, I sat on the living room floor with Bun and began with gentle touching, using only my fingertips. My intent was merely to bring Bun’s awareness to his body. His movement had been severely diminished for a long time, and I wanted to reintroduce him to his body parts and their ability to move. I outlined each vertebra of his spine, gently pushed his tailbone towards his head to remind him how his hind end connected to his fore, outlined his ribs, and gently moved his sternum (or breastbone) from side to side, all with the tips of my fingers. I would have liked to work with Bun’s feet as well, but he would not allow it. At the end of the session, Bun still had his left hind leg tucked up under him, but he seemed much more alert and energized when Mia returned him to his area in the dining room where his bed and food were and where he now spent much of his time.

The next morning, I worked with Bun again before I left for the day. This session was similar to the first one, in that I was still attempting to bring Bun’s awareness to his body, but this time I wanted to bring his awareness to a slightly deeper level. Once again, I used my fingertips to I gently outline his spine and gently push his tailbone towards his head. But this time, instead of outlining his ribs, I gently lifted his ribcage, one side at a time, to show him that it was capable of movement and to show him the connection between his ribs and spine. And this time, when I touched his sternum, I used both hands—one hand on the point of his sternum, one hand underneath his body, directly behind his front legs. I gently, slowly moved his sternum back, forward, and from side to side, again to show him that movement in this area was possible and pleasurable, and to show him the relationship between his sternum, ribs, and spine. Bun listened attentively to this lesson. When he appeared to have had enough, Mia took him back to his area in the dining room.

Late that evening, when I returned from working with horses, I decided to work with Bun again. I was leaving the next day and wanted to work with him as many times as I could in the short time we had. I felt that the way to make the best use of our time together without overloading his nervous system with too much information was to do more frequent, shorter sessions.

I began our third session by sitting on the floor and placing Bun between my outstretched legs. In previous sessions, I had worked on my knees, bent over him. But now, I wanted to offer him a secure, enclosed space, as I was going to work at a deeper level than the previous sessions. My intent in this session was to prepare Bun’s body and nervous system for standing on all four feet.

Once again, I worked with Bun’s sternum. I used both hands to slide it from back to front to back to front. My touch was gentle, but I asked the sternum to move more fully than I had before. As I eased the sternum back towards his tail with one hand, I used my other hand, which was under his belly, to gently lift him onto his feet. As I eased the sternum towards his head, I gently set him back down.

After showing Bun this rhythmic movement a few times, I began alternating it with gentle pushes through the pelvis—first one side, then the other—and the sternum. I still had one hand underneath him, offering him support, and now I was raising him completely off the ground to prepare his nervous system for standing. At first, he was alarmed when his feet left the ground; Mia pointed out to me that his eyes were beginning to bulge. But he did not try to escape or bite, so I gently continued with my work.

I then set Bun back on the ground and began working with his right hind leg. Remember, it was the left hind that was giving Bun problems. But I wanted to bring to Bun’s attention to how smoothly and efficiently a hind leg can work, and so to do this I worked with the one that already worked most efficiently. I placed the flat of my hand underneath his right hind foot, creating an artificial floor. Unlike an actual floor, my hand could move. And so with his tiny foot on my palm, I slowly rotated my hand at the wrist, causing the “floor” to slant in this direction and that, bringing Bun’s awareness to the flexibility of his foot and each of his toes. I then played with Bun’s leg, gently and very slowly showing him the range of motion he had available in the leg and hip. Bun was very quiet as we worked, clearly listening to the information I was sharing with him.

Finally, I was ready to touch the left hind, the leg that Bun had kept tucked up under him for so long. I gently touched his toes, one at a time, showing him that the foot was not an unyielding block, that it was flexible. His foot spasmed momentarily, then released and softened. As I had done with the right foot, I now played the artificial floor game with the left foot and then showed Bun the range of motion he had available in this leg and hip. As I worked with Bun, as his body softened, I became more and more convinced that the injury he had sustained was not to the leg itself but to the nervous system, that he had suffered a mild stroke. And so at this point, I decided to play a trick on his nervous system.

I eased one hand under his belly to support him and to lift him to his feet, then with the other hand I gently crossed his left hind leg over his midline-the imaginary line running vertically through the middle of the body. I had already shown him that his right hind leg was fully functional. Now I wanted to trick his nervous system into thinking that the left hind was in fact the right hind. To do this all I had to do was move the left leg to the right side.

I had no expectations at this point. I merely wanted to give Bun this information. I still had one more day to work with him before I had to leave, and I planned on continuing our dialog the following morning. But, incredibly smart creature that he was, Bun only needed to be told once. Moments after I crossed his left hind leg over the midline, Bun jumped off my hand, shook himself, and hopped—using all four feet—into the next room.

I started laughing, Mia started crying, and Bun no doubt wondered what all the fuss was about.

The next morning, I decided not to give Bun another session. I felt his nervous system had received enough information over the previous two days and that he needed to be allowed to integrate it. I sat near him while he ate his breakfast and gently stroked him a few times. Then I showed Mia a few ways she could work with Bun until I could return to Minneapolis several months later.

I did not get another chance to work with him. Two weeks after my visit, Bun died of natural causes. Mia assures me that his last two weeks were good ones, that Bun was able to hop around the house and that one day he even scratched his face with his left hind foot, something she had not seen him do for over a year. I am forever grateful for that, and that I had a chance to work with this intelligent and gentle creature before it was time for him to leave.

Mia Talks about the Bun

My wonderful house rabbit, the Bun, had always had full run of the house with no problems. As he got older, he had some troubles negotiating the hardwood floors, but other than that he never had any trouble getting around. Then one day in his eighth year, my husband and I came home to find Bun unable to use his left hind leg well at all. It wasn’t paralyzed—he just seemed unable to keep it from slipping underneath him. A trip to the emergency room X-ray machine revealed no breaks, thank goodness, but we were not given much to work with in terms of recovery or even how to keep him comfortable. We tried acupuncture for awhile but did not notice any significant improvement.

I had known about Pam’s work for several years; she had helped Bun once before, and I thought she would be able to help him again. The problem was that Pam, who is based in the Chicagoland area, was two states away, with a schedule that wouldn’t allow her to come to us. Finally, more than a year after Bun’s injury, Pam was able to make the trip to Minneapolis.

At this point, Bun was nearly 10 and his left hind leg had atrophied quite a bit. He was finding it harder and harder to get around. We had always kept him in a safe area after his “incident,” but his world was getting smaller every day. Throughout it all, he remained his sweet, affectionate self, with no intentions whatsoever of letting a little thing like a bum leg get him down.

Finally, Pam and the Bun got to work together. They worked two days in a row, in three sessions of about 15 to 20 minutes. Pam sat on the floor with him and showed his body that the left hind leg was still there and could still work for him. Through her work with him, we concluded that what had happened was probably a neurological episode, such as a stroke, but we will never really know.

In the first session, Pam slowly introduced her work to the Bun with gentle touching and very subtle movements, using only one finger. Bun was a little dubious, but cooperative. By the second session, Pam seemed able to work a little more directly with the Bun, and he was definitely listening to what she was telling him.

Their third session was very interesting; Pam was able to use both her hands on Bun and really “have a conversation.” I could tell that Bun was very engaged in what was happening. And then, without warning, Bun jumped out of Pam’s lap and hopped into the next room—using his left hind leg, unassisted!

Pam showed me a few exercises I could do with the Bun to support her work between visits, which included all over, gentle touching and creating a false floor for him with my hands under his feet as he re-learned how to move efficiently. My beloved Bun could make it from one spot in the house to another, with no assistance. He began sitting in places he hadn’t been in over a year. It was amazing and gratifying to see him able to use his body again.

Sadly, Bun died two weeks later, of natural causes. He will always be missed, and always be remembered. I thank him every day for showing me how incredibly intelligent the body is and how easily it can be taught to heal itself.

Mia Schillace Nelson

Stretching: Why it may not be such a good idea

For the past couple of years, it seems that more and more horse magazines are publishing articles about the benefits of passive stretching (stretching that the human does to the horse) as well as the benefits of using treats to encourage their horses to stretch on their own. People are encouraged to take hold of their horse’s front legs one at a time and pull them forward; they are encouraged to pull on their horse’s tail. People are encouraged to hold a treat behind their horse’s pecs (the muscles on the chest) to get the horse to stretch its head down and back; they are encouraged to use treats to coax their horses to flex their necks from side to side. I recently read this suggestion on the Internet: Hold a treat by the horse’s nose, then bring the treat down to the horse’s fetlocks; the nose will follow. Then take a few steps backwards, keeping the treat and the horse’s nose as low as possible; the horse will take a few steps backwards as well. A few steps will stretch the whole top line, all the way through the rump, like “horsey yoga.”

On the surface, these exercises seem harmless enough. You are most often cautioned to do them gently and slowly. Conventional wisdom says that stretching is a good idea before physical activity; runners stretch, don’t they? But consider that runners are stretching their own muscles; someone else doesn’t do it for them or give them an incentive to possibly go beyond their comfort zone. And, in fact, runners and other athletes are being cautioned that stretching cold muscles can lead to micro tears, that walking may be a better method of muscle warm-up.

Still, that “horsey yoga” move seems like it would feel wonderful. What possible problem could result from a horse stretching its top line before a rider gets on? We want the top line to be strong and supple. Strong, supple back muscles support the rider more effectively and protect the horse’s spine. Let’s suppose that the horse is in excellent condition, has never suffered any back problems, has never suffered any stiffness or soreness in other parts of the body that might indicate a physical imbalance. Let’s also assume that the horse has just come out of the pasture or, if he’s come out of a stall, that he has been hand-walked for five or ten minutes before being asked to stretch. If an experienced equine body worker were to very, very gently induce stretching, it’s quite possible that no harm would be done.

But what if the horse was just a little bit stiff or sore in one area of the back, say for example the lower back. You’ve probably been stiff in your lower back at one time or another, so you know how that feels. The horse might not be stiff enough that you’d even notice. Or maybe he’s just a little stiff in one of his shoulders, or maybe his neck doesn’t move as freely as it did when he was a couple of years younger.

I’d like you to try something. Get down on all fours. Now imagine someone is holding a piece of chocolate fudge next to your left wrist. It’s your favorite fudge, you haven’t had any in years, and you haven’t had lunch. Arch your neck to get to the chunk of delight, and as you do so, imagine that it is being pulled back a few feet. Step back to follow it. If you are fairly limber, you may not have any problems with this.

Now I would like you to try something else. Still on all fours, I’d like you to tighten your lower back. Now try the exercise again. How does it feel to arch your neck and spine when your back is restricted? Now release your back, tighten one shoulder, and try the stretch again. Now try it after tightening your neck.

Of course, no one is actually coaxing you on with a sugary treat, and you can stop whenever you like, but if your horse is like most horses, she or he is going to go after that treat no matter what. And while we might like to believe that the stretch is doing our companion good, there is a good chance that it isn’t.

You might say, “Well, I never do this exercise. My horse has stiff shoulders, so I gently pull on his front legs before I ride.” My response to this would be twofold: (1) I can’t imagine that it feels good to have a stiff shoulder pulled on; I imagine that the body would resist this stretch, even if only very slightly; (2) A stiff shoulder may very well be caused by an imbalance somewhere else in the body, and if this is the case, then pulling on the leg, no matter how gently, will not solve the problem.

So what to do?

Lifting and Holding: One Alternative to Stretching

In looking at alternatives to stretching, it’s useful to first consider what our intention is; in other words, why are we doing these stretches to begin with? I suspect that most people do them because they want their horses to be limber and relaxed, balanced and ready to carry the rider’s weight.

But we have to be careful not to cause our horses physical discomfort, even slight discomfort. If we ask our horse to move even a little bit beyond his comfort zone-and we really have no way of knowing if we have done this-we risk creating resistance in his body. Even the tiniest bit of resistance in a muscle can cause problems later on. A little bit of tension in one area of the body can cause a slight imbalance that may not even be noticeable right away. But over time, the imbalance can cause more tension, which can cause more imbalance, and well, you get the idea. Obviously, we want to do our best to avoid this scenario.

So I would like you to offer you an alternative. Rather than stretching the muscles, I would like you to lift them or hold them. Lifting involves holding one end of a muscle group and gently lifting it. Holding involves placing your hands on two sections of a muscle group and gently supporting and shortening it.

(LEFT: Soften your hands, wrists, and arms by gently “pulling taffy.”)   But before trying either of these methods, you first need to soften your hands. To do this, I’d like you to pretend you are gently pulling taffy. Do this softly and slowly. Don’t do it so long that your hands or arms get tense. The idea is to relax and soften your hands, wrists, and arms.

Now, crouch next to one of your horse’s front legs. Be safe. If your horse is unpredictable, you might want a friend to hold your horse for you. Gently place your hands around your horse’s leg. You can work with the lower leg (where there are tendons but no muscles) or you can work further up the leg. Be sure you are not gripping the leg. Now gently lift the muscles (or tendons). Be sure you are not just lifting skin. You don’t want to tickle your horse. You want to provide temporary support to the muscles, briefly taking over their work. Lift the muscles for five or six seconds and then gently and slowly release. Do not just let go! Release in small increments, gently allowing your hands to return to the position they started in.

 

(Lifting the tendons of the lower leg)

(Lifting the muscles of the upper leg)

Be sure to breathe while you are working with your horse. People tend to hold their breath when they are learning something new. But holding your breath creates tension, which is something you don’t want to pass on to your horse. So breathe deeply and slowly while you work.

You can lift any muscle or group of muscles on your horse’s body. Try gently lifting the muscles around the shoulder. You can lift towards the poll, towards, the neck, or towards the back. You can gently move from one position to the next. The key word is gently. The old adage “No pain, no gain” simply isn’t true. Pain creates resistance. But gently supporting a muscle group releases tension and allows the muscles to lengthen.

Try gently lifting the muscle that runs just beneath the spine. Work with one small area at a time. Be sure you are not digging your fingers into your horse’s back. Soften your hands, gently place your fingers on her back and gently lift the muscle.

Holding a muscle or muscle group is similar to lifting; the difference is that your hands are touching two different portions of the muscle at once. So, for example, you can hold the muscles of the shoulder by placing one hand below the shoulder and one above, gently supporting the muscles by applying gentle pressure towards the center. In effect, you are slightly shortening the muscles (the opposite of what you are trying to do when you use stretching exercises). You can also hold small portions of the muscle along the spine. When you are comfortable with this, you can hold and lift a small area of this muscle at the same time. This is a much more pleasurable to your horse than pulling on her tail (which is a part of her spine), and it is much safer.

 

(Holding the muscles around the shoulder)

(Holding and lifting the muscles beneath the spine)

 

When you hold and support the muscle, you take over its work, you help it to relax and lengthen-with no risk of tearing or otherwise stressing the area.

If you’re having trouble believing the benefit of these gentle exercises (or even if you’re not!), ask a friend to lift the muscles of your leg or arm, to hold the muscles of your shoulder or neck. Be sure your friend has soft hands before beginning; be sure your friend doesn’t hold his or her breath while working.

Convinced?

Of course, these exercises are not intended to replace veterinary care. If your horse has acute or chronic pain, contact your veterinarian.

But as a way of helping to release tension, helping to allow your horse’s muscles to lengthen on their own, and-as an added bonus-strengthening the human/equine bond, I invite you to put aside the stretching and try gently lifting and holding instead.

*This article first appeared in the August/September 2006 issue of The Sentinel.

© 2006 by Pamela Sourelis