Six Dos and Don’ts of Writing Equine Therapy In Fiction

A common element found in many equine fiction stories is the use of an equid character as a therapy animal, whether a seeing-eye mini horse, or an emotional support equine that helps the main character heal from trauma. When done well, these stories are amazing testimonies to the horse-human bond and how animals can help us heal our minds and hearts.

But these days, I see fewer and fewer stories that deal with this element well or accurately. Healing from trauma has an almost simplistic feel to it, as if just because the character has completed their arc, all their problems are gone. Healing is never so linear, nor is the process simple.

Since I use equid characters in this way quite  often, as well as having attended both convential and equine therapy, I thought I would write an article about the dos and don’ts of using equine characters in fiction, and how you can use this element sensitively and accurately in your stories.

(As a note: my experience with equine therapy is more on the mental/emotional side, rather than the physical side. Thus that is what I will be focusing on in this article).

Don’t have equine therapy be your character’s main form of counseling.

Yes, equine therapy is wonderful for healing, but it often doesn’t get down to the deep heart work that is often needed to process trauma. If your character has depression, PTSD, or other mental health struggles, it would be more realistic for them to get professional human counseling first. I personally found one-on-one human counseling more effective in processing my trauma than in equine therapy.

Do use research

I cannot stress this enough in articles– if you’re going to include a big topic in your stories, PLEASE do your research on it! Find some websites for equine therapy centers. Read about what they do. Don’t be afraid to email and ask questions. It shows your readers that you care if you take the time to learn about the topic you’re tackling.

Don’t anthromorphize the horses

This is more a fault in books that don’t use the horses explicitly as therapy animals, but rather to help characters heal from trauma. Because the horse and human have similar trauma, they immediately bond and the horse will magically do anything the human asks.

I’m sorry, but that’s not how it happens in real life. While I do think animals have a keen sense of knowing our emotions, horses are still prey animals. If the human is ranting and raving, having a total angry meltdown, the horse is going to run away, not walk forward. If the human is scared, the horse knows that, and will get nervous themselves– or take advantage of the human.

Sadness is a hard one. This is most often used for a convenient cute horse moment, but it honestly depends on the horse. I’ve had horses press their heads against me or stand a little closer when I’ve been crying, and I’ve had horses completely ignore me. I even had a guinea pig who would lick my face– and if you know guinea pigs, you know they are not much for licking. I’ve never had a guinea pig do that since. You have a bit more leeway with grief and sadness, but try to keep it subtle, nothing extravagant. In The Color of a Horse’s Song, I have a lot of scenes where characters turn to their horses for support when they are hurting. Most of the time, the horse just stands there. But their friendly presence is a strong comfort in itself.

All in all, it really depends on the horse-human bond. My biggest problem comes when that is the SOLE reason the horse bonds with the human, without any horsemanship skills whatsoever. Cute horse comfort moments are more likely to happen when that horse considers the human part of its herd, and that comes from working together and learning to communicate, not from “oh, we share trauma, let’s be buddies!!”

Do have the human learn horsemanship skills.

This trope is often paired with the “clueless city girl” that every horseperson loves to hate in fiction. Not always, but often. Whenever a human and horse are bonding, I find there is something far more constructive in actually having them DO something than just… standing there, looking pretty.

When I was in equine therapy, standing around was just awkward. I had a bunch of random objects and two horses to interact with. I improvised, played around with my amateur horsemanship skills. A length of tule fabric (don’t ask me why it was in there) became a makeshift halter, and I spent time teaching my favorite horse Max to walk over tarps and become desensitized to rubber balls. Some days I’d get a curry comb and I’d just spend time rubbing them down.

In my books, I usually have the character working toward a goal. In my dystopian fantasy Protectors, one of the characters had a problem with physically freezing any time someone touched her. Her mentor ended up teaching her how to ride and use a horse in combat situations, allowing her to fight without the risk of getting touched. It was a lot more interesting to write scenes with Jackie trying to figure out how to mount a horse while he was moving than just her watching him prance in circles. In another novel, the horse and human are already bonded, but she often uses him to patrol the perimeter. Earlier on in their relationship, she helped train him. Having goals for your characters and horses to work towards will both strengthen their relationship and keep the story moving.

Don’t Put Unrealistic Expectations On Your Characters

Learn what is physically and mentally realistic for your characters. It’s unlikely that they’ll forget all their PTSD trauma in a week. Similarly, if they are learning a certain riding pattern or skill, then both the horse AND the human are learning, which is a whole other rodeo in itself. How long it takes to learn that skill depends on the horse, the skill, and even the riding conditions.

This goes back to “do your research”. Talk to horse people who have done this skill! When I had vaulting-esque horsemanship, I asked some friends about vaulting, and they were able to give me some tips on how to write the training scenes even with the short timeclock the characters were on.

Do Keep Track of the Timelines

It is VERY easy to lose your way in fiction. What may seem like a month to you might be a vague week to your readers. This plays into the “don’t” above since time amount tends to be the hidden culprit behind unrealistic expectations.

What one of my writer friends started doing was using old planners with sticky notes to map out timelines, with the ability to move around the sticky notes as she liked. I’ve only used this technique in one book, but I hope to use it more in the future.

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I hope that this article proves useful for you, whether your equines are professional equine counseling companions or emotional support buddies.

Chime in on the conversation! What do you think is the biggest mistake authors make when it comes to writing equine therapy?