It didn’t look much like a match made in heaven.  First there was Eeyore, a mellow, portly donkey, his dusty gray coat recently freshened by a leisurely roll in the rich soil.

Then there was Alison Hanson, a willowy 10-year-old who, because of sever autism fears almost everything in life, particularly big, dirty donkeys.

Within moments of meeting, however, the soulful-eyed beast, once a crippled give-away item, and the frightened little girl connected.

She is hugging him, and he is leaning into her.

It’s a miracle of bonding and mutual healing between challenged animals and humans that Diane Reid witnesses nearly daily at her Whispering Hope Ranch, just under the Mogollon Rim about 25 miles east of Payson.

The nearly 40-acre grassy spread is where she keeps her collection of formerly abused, abandoned, neglected, unwanted or malformed animals that find themselves finally safe and loved in her care.

Many are frightened and untrustful when they first arrive.  Or sick and lame.

And for the past year, Reid has been inviting into the mix and assortment of humans, who through devastating emotional or physical circumstances of their own, need the type of unconditional love and comfort that animals can provide.

They are humans who are developmentally disabled, recovering from surgery, elderly, handicapped, depressed or autistic, or perhaps who have just given up on life.

Research has shown that interaction with animals can enhance people’s immune systems, lower their blood pressure and produce general signs of calming.

And using animals for therapy with humans is expanding, said Stephanie Lafarge, a child psychologist and director of counseling services in New York City for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Making connections

New programs are pairing animals with lonely elders, emotionally disturbed teen and children with genetic disorders, such as autism.

“The primary reason therapy animals work so well with these children is because the animals are not people by definition,” Lafarge said.  “The autistic child has demonstrated difficulty in human relationships, leaving them absolutely alone unless they can make a relationship with another creature.”

So Reid wasn’t the least surprised as she watched Alison, who rarely speaks, stop struggling with her caregivers and suddenly call out Eeyore’s name.

Seconds later, with Reid’s encouragement, Alison was timidly touching Eeyore’s ear.  Then it was his back, which she stroked with both hands.  And very shortly, she had draped her whole body against his, begging to be hoisted on his back.

Alison beamed mightily after getting her way.

“I’m amazed, I’m just shocked,” Alison’s mom Peggy Hanson of Phoenix, said after her daughter was helped down.  “She’s deathly afraid of animals.”  “Eeyore,” Hanson added, “you’re worth your weight in gold.”

‘Angel donkey’

Reid only smiled.

“He’s our angel donkey,” she said as she planted a big lipstick-laced kiss on the top of his nose.  “He’s our angel.”

Eeyore isn’t the only divinely inspired critter at Reid’s rambling, ponderosa, pine-studded ranch.

There’s Taurus, a mustang born without real hooves, who seems not to notice his handicap.

And feral cats, such as City Kitty, who was plucked off the streets of New York after someone tried to poison him.  Emus and llamas nobody wanted, are there, too, and plenty of goats and pigs and turkeys and bunnies and peacocks and ducks and chickens and geese. Once a year, even more animals – locals who live in the forest – join them.

“During hunting season, I open the gates and let the elk come in,” Reid said.

The mother of two adult children never buys animals for her ranch. “They just come to us,” she said. “And we never have just one of anything.”

‘Free-flowing’

Many roam at will across the fenced property, just as human visitors do. “We’re really free-flowing here,” Reid said. And together, they mingle for mutual support.

Reid doesn’t charge human guests for their visit to her ranch (although her feed and bedding bill for critters reached $24,000 last year).  Nor is their length of stay predictable.

Some make just day visits. Others, such as Alison and her family, enjoyed a weekend there, along with several more families associated with the Southwest Autism Research Center in Phoenix.

Still others, according to need, linger even longer. Sixteen-year-old Benjamin Ehlert-DeRue was one of those guests.

“He had brain surgery that left him moderately impaired, and he was in a lot of emotional pain,” said his mother, Elena Kirkpatrick of Glendale.  “He wasn’t dying in his body anymore, but he was just sort of slipping away.”

A chance encounter with a cowboy familiar with Whispering Hope brought Benjamin and Reid together for almost three weeks, and he returned home a different child. “They helped him see the value in (himself) while he was there,” said Kirkpatrick.

Currently, there one new cabin for guests such as Benjamin has been finished.  “But our objective is to have a total of 10 and maybe even 15,” Reid said.

Ranch improvements

Also on the property are a remodeled ranch-house headquarters, a new horse barn, a handicapped-access riding area, a gazebo and a refurbished spring-fed pond.

None of which comes cheap.  "Right now, the primary funding comes from me,” said Reid, who added that former lucrative investments have made the ranch possible.  "I had everything in the world anyone could imagine,” says the Idaho native, who holds degrees in elementary education and public health science.  “And I knew I was supposed to do something like this.”

A charitable foundation has been established to bolster her work.  “We’re a non-profit corporation, a private foundation,” she said.

But Reid didn’t really set out to establish Whispering Hope Ranch. “I was just looking for a meadow to lease for my two horses after moving to Payson,” she explained.

Less than three years ago, the 53-year-old Reid, who was raised on a farm, decided she’d learn to ride horses. “I was the only one of the kids who was afraid of horses,” she said.  “Actually, I was afraid of everything.”

After going through a particularly painful period in her life, both physically and emotionally, she decided to conquer at least some of her fears by learning to ride. She ended up buying one of her learning tools, Sheba, a sorrel quarter horse.  The horse was shortly diagnosed with arthritis.  Reid quickly acquired a second horse, Pisces.

‘Just happened’

“When I got out here to look at the meadow, the owner said he didn’t want to lease,” she said.  “The gentleman said he really wanted to sell.”

Within three weeks, the ranch was hers.  Reid said it then became very clear to her how she would use her new property.

“She won’t bite me, will she?” he whined.  “I don’t want her to kiss me, either.” But Britta, the towering black and white native of South America, quickly won over the skittish visitor after he mustered the courage to stroke her dense, lush coat.

“She loves me, doesn’t she?” Danny confided in Reid. “No questions asked.”