Topper climbs out first, swinging the gate open with his usualflourish. “Mornin’, folks!” he calls. “Brought our visitors to see the famous Goose in action.”
Beckett looks up from the horse, offering a nod more than a smile—the kind of greeting that sayswelcomewithout wasting words. Goose shifts beside him, perfectly calm.
Dr. Irene Yazzie steps forward, wiping her hands on her jeans before offering one. Her palm is warm, steady. “Good morning,” she says, her voice low and textured, like gravel softened by water. “You must be Roxanne Denning. I’m Irene.”
“Yes, great to meet you,” I say, trying not to sound nervous.
Her mouth curves gently. “We’ve heard about your adventures with this one.” She nods toward Goose, who flicks an ear as if to confirm the accusation.
Allie laughs. “He’s kind of a big deal around here, huh?”
“He reminds us every day.” Irene gestures toward Beckett. “Goose and Beckett work as a team, which you’ll see in a moment. For now, we’ll do a short demonstration—give you an idea of how an Equine-Assisted Therapy session unfolds.”
“Is this therapy for the horse or the human?” Leo asks.
“Depends on who needs it more,” Beckett says without looking up, his voice carrying that easy Colorado drawl.
We run through a few more formal introductions as Leo and Allie also shake hands with Irene and Beckett before Irene walks us through more details about the demonstration.
“Beckett will play the part of our client today,” she explains. “I’ll walk you through what we observe, and then we’ll talk about how it connects to emotional awareness and regulation. The goal isn’t to make the horse obey, it’s to see what the interaction reveals.”
Topper winks at Allie. “Told you this was good stuff.”
“This sounds great,” Allie says. “Give us a few minutes to set up our equipment and we can get started?”
Irene and Beckett nod as Allie and Leo start to unpack their equipment. Leo kneels outside the paddock gate, camera balanced on one knee, scanning the arena through the viewfinder. He adjusts the focus ring with a flick of his fingers, testing the light against the dust in the air, while Allie checks the levels on his mic pack and waves for him to drop the gain. “We’re getting some wind noise off the barn,” she says, tapping her tablet. “Let’s pivot five degrees and use the rail as a shield.”
My attention shifts as Irene moves closer to us, while Goose swats a fly away with his tail.
“Okay if we come in?” Leo asks.
“Of course,” Irene says.
Leo steps in followed by Allie who crosses to Irene and clips a tiny lav mic to her shirt collar, tucking the wire discreetly out of sight. She repeats this process with Beckett and then gives Leo a thumbs up.
“And we’re ready in 3, 2, 1 …” Allie says before pointing to Leo.
“Equine-assisted therapy isn’t usually about riding,” Irene says. “It’s about connection. Reflection. The horse becomes a mirror for the person working with them. If you bring tension into this space? The horse picks up on it. You lie to yourself about how you’re feeling? They’ll call you on it.”
For the sake of the camera, Irene instructs Beckett on what to do. Slowly, they both walk with Goose around the paddock as Leo films until they arrive back at the gate. Irene continues the demonstration talking about how equine-assisted psychotherapy helps veterans rebuild trust, regulate anxiety, and reconnect with the present moment. Irene then steps back and lets Beckett step up to the camera.
Goose nudges Beckett’s shoulder, and he huffs a quiet laugh. “He’s reminding me I’m not in charge. Back in the Army,everything was about control. Here, it’s about letting go and that’s a whole different kind of hard.”
“There’s no pressure now,” Irene says softly. “Just intention. The horse senses what’s beneath the surface—what we try to hide from ourselves. If you shift your energy, he’ll feel it long before you move.”
The air in the paddock stills.
Irene glances at Allie. “Would you like to try?”
Allie blinks, startled. “Me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Irene’s voice stays calm. “Before you approach, take a deep breath. Let him come to you first. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”
Allie steps forward and stops beside Beckett, her palms open at her sides. Goose lowers his head, sniffs the air between them, then takes a slow step forward until his muzzle brushes her sleeve.
“See that?” Irene says, glancing at us. “He’s tuning in to your energy. Matching you.”
Allie exhales, takes another step, and Goose mirrors it.
