When Kylee was born, she needed medical intervention just to survive. After countless tests, she was diagnosed with a rare genetic condition called 15q24 microdeletion syndrome. At the time, she was only the 19th documented case in the world—and the only one with her exact chromosomal deletion. She was born with multiple birth defects that affected her muscles, brain, spine, diaphragm, heart, lungs, intestines, kidneys, and chest. Over the years, she’s had more than a dozen surgeries, including multiple operations on her diaphragm, brain, and spine. On top of all that, she was later diagnosed with primary and common variable immunodeficiency. Some of her doctors didn’t think she’d ever walk, talk, or live independently. So when we first brought her to Heart of the Horse Therapy Ranch, we weren’t sure what to expect. At the time, she couldn’t bear weight on her legs, sit upright on a horse, or speak. But then something incredible happened. After just a few sessions, Kylee started to bear weight on her legs—something years of physical therapy hadn’t been able to achieve. We were amazed. And then she started using her words while riding. We were stunned. A year later, she was walking independently. Kylee still requires 24-hour care and can’t do most things on her own—but riding her horse at HOTH is one thing she can do without mom and dad. That means everything to her. And to us. There were moments when she lost some of the skills she had worked so hard to gain. It was devastating. Many of her therapists gave up on her because she struggled to stay engaged and wasn’t making “enough progress.” We feared she’d lose her spot at HOTH too. But then Carey Adams came to visit Kylee in the hospital. She looked at me and said, “We will never give up on Kylee.” And she meant it. They’ve stood by her every step of the way. At Heart of the Horse, Kylee isn’t just learning how to ride—she’s gaining strength, independence, love, and dignity. She’s surrounded by people who believe in her even when the world tells her she’s not capable. This ranch gave us hope when we were running out of it.
Michelle C.: Kylee's Mom
Words can’t express the gratitude I feel for everything you and your husband are doing. Seeing my son Vance on that horse—with a huge smile on his face—was absolutely priceless. I haven’t seen him that happy in such a long time. What touched me the most was how your husband treated my son. He didn’t look to me for answers—he looked at Vance. He waited for him to respond. That may seem like a small thing to some people, but it’s huge. Too often, people make Vance feel invisible by talking around him. But not here. Your husband joked with him, talked to him like any other guy—not like someone with a disability. Vance felt good there. He felt seen. And as his mom, that means everything to me. You and your team are a blessing beyond measure. Thank you for creating a space where my son can just be himself and be treated with the dignity and respect he deserves.
Tanya L.: Vance's Mom
I wanted to share some feedback with you. I recently saw one of my young patients—a little girl with moderate to severe autism—for her follow-up well check. Last year, I could barely examine her or interact with her at all. This time? She was like a different child. I asked her mother what had changed, and she mentioned that she had started equestrian therapy—alongside a few other interventions. But when she talked about the horse therapy, I knew exactly what she meant. She was talking about you. She told me that Heart of the Horse had been a tremendous experience for her daughter. And I could see it. This little girl—who had once seemed so unreachable—was calm, communicative, and engaged. What you’re doing is working. You’re making a difference that’s tangible, visible, and deeply meaningful. Please don’t stop.
Dr. Evans, MD, FAAP, FABM: Pediatrician