When Melissa Collins is riding a horse, people can't tell she's "different."

If only they knew.

It's one of the things she loves best about riding and competing in horse shows, when spectators can't see the mobility cane she uses because she's legally blind, or the two-way radio worn in her ear for practice because of severe hearing loss, or her insulin pump, needed because she suffers from Type I diabetes.

They can't see her so-called limitations.

"When I'm on a horse, people can't tell that I'm different," said the 26-year-old Peters resident. "That is, they don't see me using a cane. They don't know I can't hear very well. They don't know I have diabetes."

A senior at California University of Pennsylvania, Collins has been a member of the university's equestrian team for three years. She went from what her coach, Sue Malencia, called "a terrified beginner rider" to advanced levels in showing hunt seat and western riding, in which she has earned a blue ribbon.

What makes Collins all the more remarkable are the circumstances under which she must perform.

Although her vision is such that she can make out vague shapes at close range, dimly lit indoor arenas can render her completely blind, and she suffers from a host of other chronic diseases, such as back arthritis, asthma and hyperthyroidism.

It took Malencia a year to convince the Intercollegiate Horse Show Association that Collins should be able to show at the same level as the other 21 team members.

The only requirement?

Collins gets no special treatment, and that's fine with her.

"I don't coddle her," Malencia said of Collins, who began taking private lessons from her coach in 2001. "I treat her like the others on the team."

ISHA requires that Collins, along with other riders, draw lots at the beginning of each show to determine which horse they will ride.

Collins must get on a horse she's never ridden and perform with no warm-up. And ISHA rules prohibit Collins from wearing her insulin pump or the two-way radio she uses during practice to communicate with Malencia. She cannot see hand signals from her coach and neither the judges nor other riders can know about her disabilities.

Sometimes, team members or spotters from other teams will stand on the outside of the arena to alert Collins if she is riding too close to the fence.

"She's a competitor all the way through," said Malencia, who operates the Starting Line Stable in Fallowfield, where the team practices.

Collins said during one summer show not sponsored by the ISHA, a judge inadvertently found out that one of the university riders had disabilities. But by the end of the show, Collins said, the judge guessed that she was a "normal" rider and that another student was disabled.

Born with hearing loss, along with glaucoma and cataracts, Collins had the lens caps of her eyes removed and uses memorization and feel to compensate. She grooms and saddles Malencia's horses during practice and deftly handles bridles and straps as well as most fully-sighted people.

During one recent practice session, Collins rode Mr. Breeze, a paint gelding that Malencia said was her "toughest horse to ride." Sporting a T-shirt that said "Born to ride, forced to study," Collins gently nudged the horse to a trot at Malencia's command and used subtle cues to urge him on.

The practice was all about perfecting technique, and at one point, Malencia had Collins ride on the English saddle without her feet in the stirrups. It's the kind of session Collins enjoys, and even though she'd ridden before her lessons with Malencia, Collins said she wanted to learn more about horses.

"I've always loved horses," Collins said. "I've always wanted to learn to ride. I wanted to learn the right way."

Boyfriend and fellow team member Will Henry said Collins' level of dedication is "amazing."

"She's a perfectionist," Henry said.

Although Malencia and Collins were using their two-way radios, Malencia occasionally rode over to Collins and the two rode beside each other.

"She hears a lot of what I say just because she knows my voice," Malencia said.

Born in Peters, Collins moved to San Diego when she was about 5. She moved back to the area to live with her grandparents, Jane and George Collins, of Peters, after high school graduation.

Collins said her family wasn't concerned when she told them four years ago she would be taking horseback riding lessons.

"I only fell once," she said. "And that was when my horse was walking backwards."

A secondary-education, speech-communication major, Collins has a minor in psychology and plans to graduate in May. She also is active in bowling, which she is certified to coach with an average score of 170. Collins plays piccolo and flute in the university band and is a member of two service fraternities at the university.

She works to educate students about diabetes at the university health center and is learning Braille through a distance education program.

Collins still wants to learn dressage, side-saddle riding and other techniques with hopes of riding at the ISHA national competition.

She plays down the challenges in her life and leaves little room for negativity.

"I don't do things I'm not happy doing," she said. "If I didn't enjoy it, I wouldn't be here."

Her attitude perhaps is best summed up by Malencia, who recalls a show during which poor lighting and other factors combined to make the match a near-disaster for Collins.

"I said, 'Are you OK?' and she said 'No,' I said, 'Do you want to quit?' And she said, 'No,' " Malencia said.