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Wången!

I’ve already told you about my meeting with Bertil when I was a child. He was so happy to find someone who could share his immense passion for horses, especially the Nordsvensk (North Swedish Horse), that he started taking me along to various events. There were local evaluations, driving competitions, and other gatherings, but if you were passionate about the Nordsvensk back then, there was one place that was the heart of it all for breeders: Wången. That was where the evaluations for 3- and 4-year-olds took place early in the spring, and people came from all over Sweden. Yes, even someone from Denmark!

Not only was I from “abroad,” but I was also a girl! There weren’t many girls who shared an interest in Nordsvensk horses at that time, so I was unusual in every way. I was allowed to go with Bertil all the way to Wången in Östersund, which meant a train journey of over 12 hours. Naturally, all the Nordsvensk enthusiasts traveled together, and they had a lot of fun on the way. They had prepared well with their flasks, and there wasn’t much sleeping – but there was a lot of laughter! By then, I was a bit older and even got to have a schnapps or two along the journey.

I remember when we arrived at Wången. We had barely slept, and when we got off the train, it almost felt like we were still moving.

At Wången, people gathered from all over the country, and the variety of dialects was incredible. I was Danish, but by that time, I could speak fluent Swedish. Since I had learned the language and how to listen, I often ended up translating for the men when they couldn’t understand each other! Things usually got better after a couple of schnapps, and ultimately, everyone agreed that the Nordsvensk was the finest horse to ever walk on four legs.

I remember one man from Dalarna who had a wonderful dialect and a gift for storytelling. He would sit and humorously reflect on how strange it was that the evaluation judges – often limping with canes, wearing glasses, and using hearing aids – could stand there and criticize these perfectly created horses, saying they were “too short in the back” or “a little pigeon-toed.” We laughed until tears rolled down our cheeks!

There were so many debates and opinions when one of the stallions wasn’t approved, and the pride that radiated from breeders and supporters when a stallion was approved was incredible.

I visited Wången three times, and each experience was amazing. My love for the Nordsvensk remains strong. I think they are wonderful, versatile horses. I’ve been a lucky owner of three of them, and I would love to have another one someday.

The picture is from Wången 1979 when one of the 3 years stallions is showed.

Winter Memories from Sweden

Sometimes, our family would visit our summer cottage in Blekinge during the winter. We had time off between Christmas and New Year, and if we were lucky, there would be snow. Snow was rare in Denmark at that time of year, so we loved going to Sweden to ski. Sometimes, the lake would freeze over too, and we could go ice skating.

One Easter, the weather was absolutely fantastic. There was snow on the ground, but the sun was so warm that I decided to try skiing in my swimsuit. No sooner said than done! It was great fun – until I fell. Then my clothes were back on in no time! My parents were sitting outside having lunch and enjoying the sunshine. My dad thought it was very practical to stick the schnapps bottle in a snowdrift to keep it perfectly cold.

Another winter, when the whole family was there, Bertil wanted to surprise us with something special: a moonlit sleigh ride with his horse, Hamn. It’s a memory that still gives me goosebumps when I think about it. I so wish we had had mobile phones back then, so we could have filmed or at least taken photos, but it wasn’t possible with my little pocket camera.

That evening, the temperature was around minus 20 degrees. Snow weighed heavily on the branches of the pine trees, and the full moon cast a bluish light over the forest. The snow crunched under our boots as we walked, and when you breathed through your nose, the hairs froze into ice. We had to pull our scarves up over our faces to stop them from going completely numb.

Bertil came to pick us up in the sleigh, with Hamn harnessed and ready, and we each got a torch to light before the ride. The forest was completely still; the only sounds were the jingling of the sleigh bells and Hamn’s occasional snorting. We rode through the sparkling winter landscape to Bertil’s house, where his sister Nelly had prepared pea soup and warm punch. I remember that nothing had ever tasted so good – and even I got to try a little punch. It warmed us up perfectly for the ride home through the cold night.

Even then, I knew I was experiencing something unforgettable, something that would stay etched in my memory for the rest of my life. I’ve been on sleigh rides many times since, but never again by moonlight with torches. It was truly magical.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a good picture from that night – it was nearly impossible to take photos in the dark back then. Here is a picture of Hamn from another sleigh ride. We didn’t have mobile phones in those days, so you had to wait weeks to get your photos developed – and it was expensive too!

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Wonderful December!
I am one of those who loves December. I know… dark, slushy, and cold! But there is so much to be happy about: the Christmas trees, the light in the windows, the anticipation, and a new year just around the corner.

Many of my friends have birthdays in December, including myself. I love gifts, surprises, and cakes! I have a special birthday memory that I remember as if it were yesterday, even though it was a very long time ago.

I was 14 years old and soon turning 15. I spent almost every day at an animal shelter, helping out. There were homeless cats and dogs there, and I loved walking the dogs, earning their trust, or sitting in the “kitchen” with a cat on my lap. We cooked meat for the dogs and fish for the cats. The smell in the kitchen is hard to describe, but you got used to it. And the animals – they were just amazing.

The man who ran the shelter, Mr. Jönsson, also had two ponies: a Shetland pony named Claus and a larger pony named Prins. I used to take care of them and sometimes ride. But a few weeks earlier, Prins had passed away from colic, and we all felt sorry for Claus, who was now alone. Mr. Jönsson had mentioned that he might get a new horse, but even then, horses were expensive, so it was not something we could take for granted.

A week before my birthday, Mr. Jönsson called – something he never usually did. He asked me to come over immediately! I had a feeling it might be a new horse, so I borrowed my brother’s moped (even though I wasn’t allowed to ride a moped until I turned 15). I had secretly practiced a little before, so I knew how to drive and got there as quickly as I could.

And there he stood: the little pony! Mr. Jönsson said he would be “mine” as long as I continued to help out at the shelter. He had found the perfect way to ensure that I would never stop coming there.

It was the best birthday I had ever had. And on my actual birthday the following week, I bought my first moped with money I had saved from my confirmation and other savings. Now I had both my own horse and my own moped, and I was convinced I never wanted to grow older than 15.

Of course, that wish didn’t come true. It’s now over 50 years later, and I have continued to grow older. But instead of mourning that, I am grateful that I have been able to live so long and experience so much – especially considering that I have had family and friends who didn’t get the same chance.

Mr. Jönsson passed away a couple of years after this event, and his brother inherited everything he had. I worried a lot about my pony, but Mr. Jönsson’s brother felt sorry for me and gave me the pony. I cried with gratitude – my best friend would get to stay with me.

Now it’s December again, and soon my birthday. I wonder if I will ever have a birthday as special as that one. It will be exciting to see – surprises are always welcome!

My Mission

I’ve often heard that one should find their mission in life to truly make a difference in the world. For a long time, I struggled to identify mine. During my youth and much of my adult life, my focus was simply on surviving – putting food on the table and later ensuring my children had what they needed. However, one thing was always clear: I wasn’t going to settle for a conventional 9-to-4 job, sitting in traffic to and from work. Instead, I carved out a path for myself working with horses, something I’ve always been passionate about.

But loving your work isn’t necessarily the same as having a mission. My true mission revealed itself a few years ago when I started helping anxious riders and launched a podcast. The podcast’s purpose was to interview people who had done something meaningful for horses and, in doing so, share their stories to inspire and educate others.

Empathy for the horse has always been my driving force

Over the years, I’ve made my share of mistakes in handling horses, but I’ve always approached them with empathy and a deep desire to give them the best life possible. Even as a child, I couldn’t watch Western movies without feeling upset about how the horses were treated. I noticed the riders’ harsh hands yanking on their horses’ mouths with curb bits, the relentless spurring, and the galloping chaos. The worst part for me was when the horses “died” and fell on screen—I couldn’t stop thinking about the injuries they must have sustained during those stunts.

As I grew older, I began questioning many of the practices deemed “normal” in the horse world. I often wondered if having a bit in a horse’s mouth could truly be comfortable—perhaps because I’m so sensitive about my own teeth. I’ve always been skeptical of spurs, only using them for competitions because I had no choice at the time. My philosophy has always been to build a relationship with the horse using as few tools and aids as possible. I remember how people would admire me for riding my stallion with nothing but a halter, but for me, it just felt natural.

Curiosity led me to the podcast

When I started my podcast, it was driven by curiosity. I wanted to learn how people around the world cared for and worked with their horses. The world is vast, and the differences in equine management are enormous. Somehow, I managed to find individuals who were making a positive difference for horses, and this quickly became the central theme of my episodes.

Eventually, I had the idea to create debate forums where different voices could come together to discuss their perspectives. It’s been amazing to see equine welfare topics gain traction and how more people are beginning to prioritize the horse’s well-being over competition results. I welcome this change wholeheartedly because it’s so desperately needed. We must rethink the traditions that start in riding schools and teach people to see horses not as tools but as individuals that deserve to be heard and understood.

My mission today

Today, my mission is to shine a light on those who dare to think differently and prioritize the horse’s well-being above all else. I dream of a time when what is considered “alternative” today becomes the new “normal,” and when those of us who have stopped competing due to misuse of equipment, stress, and improper judgment of horses are no longer dismissed as “soft” but respected as people who love their horses and refuse to subject them to anything they don’t willingly participate in.

I hope we’re on the brink of a change similar to what we’ve seen in dog training, where harsh methods have been replaced by kinder, more respectful approaches. Being kind doesn’t mean being weak. And if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s weak.

I look forward with hope to better times for our horses. If you’re curious to learn more, tune into my debate forum this Wednesday. You’ll meet knowledgeable horse people, researchers, and riders who prove that incredible partnerships with horses can be built—without force or harsh tools.

The Reluctantly “Willing”

Our family is like so many others: the wife (me) is a passionate horse lover, and the husband – who probably didn’t fully realize what he was signing up for when he said “I do” – has ended up with a rather different daily life than he might have imagined.

I have to say, I made a smart choice. I married a handy man who works in construction and knows how to operate both tractors and excavators. Perfect for building stables, creating riding arenas, and yes, we’ve even managed to add a couple of indoor arenas over the years. While my husband wasn’t particularly interested in horses to begin with, he does enjoy farming and has found his own “hobby” in producing excellent hay for the horses and fixing fences that mysteriously keep breaking.

As for his lack of interest in horses? Well, over the years he’s had more than his fair share of lead ropes handed to him – either to help move horses or to hold a mare during breeding. And you know what? I’m fairly certain he’s actually enjoyed it, deep down. He’s even started to notice the horses’ individual personalities and has had his own favorites in the herd.

But… sometimes I wonder if he secretly dreams of the day I finally “grow out of” the horse phase now that I’m older. Perhaps he’s hoping for a retirement free from rolling hay bales and mending fences. He’s never said as much, but I have my suspicions, especially when I tease him a little.

Like the other day. I decided to test him.

I only have three horses left now – quite modest compared to the 25–30 I used to have – and to me, it feels a bit empty. The most recent addition is a rescue horse with a ligament injury in her right front leg. He’s still limping a bit, though he’s much improved. The other two are my own homebred horses, now 17 and 18 years old. One has this peculiar habit of occasionally lifting his left hind leg, as if he’s trying to stretch it. And the third? She was recently lame in her right hind leg, though I couldn’t figure out why – maybe she stepped wrong and twisted it.

So there we were one evening, my husband and I. He was deeply engrossed in watching YouTube on his phone when I suddenly said,
“I think I need to buy another horse…”

I watched as his entire body froze. His eyes glazed over, and he stared at me as if I’d just suggested we move to Mars. His breathing grew heavier, his nostrils flared, but he didn’t say a word.

I continued, pretending not to notice his reaction:
“Yes, I think I need to get a horse that’s lame in the left front leg, so the herd can be symmetrical.”

Half a second passed. Then I couldn’t hold back a smile. My husband saw it and realized I was joking. His whole body seemed to deflate by about 10 centimeters, and he exhaled in relief – loud enough to be heard.

I still haven’t quite figured out if he was worried about the cost – or if the idea of more horses was what really scared him.

Maybe I should buy him a horse for Christmas?

The Farrier – Someone We Can’t Be Without!

A few days ago, a discussion arose in my group about an incident where a horse bit a farrier on the back, and the farrier reacted by striking the horse. This sparked strong emotions and opinions about the farrier’s actions, and I think it’s time we address this sensitive topic.

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When Frustration Takes Over

I’ve had many horses over the years and admit that I’ve also lost my patience on occasion and hit a horse. It’s a human reaction when you’re injured, scared, or feeling powerless. At the same time, it’s important to understand the vulnerable position farriers are in. They must trust that the horse owner has done their part – training the horse to lift its legs and stand still during shoeing. But as we know, horses are individuals, and even a well-trained horse can suddenly react unpredictably.

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Horses Are Not Machines

I remember a young horse I bought as a foal and trained myself. By the time he was three years old, he was always well-behaved, able to lift his legs, and stand still. But one day, as I was taking him out of the paddock, he attacked me without warning. He bit me so hard on the arm that I thought he would never let go. In panic, I hit him to get him to release me. It was about protecting myself, and situations like that can happen even with horses you know well.

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Where Do We Draw the Line?

Farriers work in a vulnerable position, and it’s easy to understand their frustration if they’re bitten, kicked, or attacked. But the question is: where do we draw the line for an acceptable reaction? Using tools as weapons, kicking the horse with steel-toed boots, or injuring it in any way is never okay.

I’ve had farriers who reacted with understandable reflexes, but I’ve also met one who crossed all boundaries. Once, I hired a farrier to trim a pregnant pony mare who had difficulty giving her hind legs. I explained the situation and asked for patience. He had been working for no more than five minutes – and let me make it clear, she wasn’t dangerous, just reluctant to hold her legs up for long – when he started shouting, “damn horse,” and hit her over the back with the rasp while kicking her in the stomach. He yelled that he didn’t care if she was pregnant, using a stream of curse words. I was utterly shocked and told him to stop immediately. I even paid him just to avoid any further conflict. That was my limit, at least.

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A Model Farrier

The best farrier I’ve ever had was Per. He was used to working with draft horses and knew that fighting with a horse would never result in getting the job done. He would come and chat while we brought the horse out, take his time lighting his pipe, and let the horse get used to his presence. He always talked to me about the horse, commenting on how good it looked or asking where I got it from. This created a positive atmosphere, making the horse familiar with his voice and attitude before he even began.

Shoeing took a long time with Per, as he worked carefully and took breaks. All the horses calmed down when he was in the stable, and even the more challenging ones improved quickly. Later, his son took over and brought the same calm demeanor to his work.

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Collaboration Is Key

Being a farrier is not an easy job. It requires patience, skill, and a calm mind. If someone has a quick temper and takes out their frustration on the horse through violence, it only worsens the situation – both for the horse and for future shoeing attempts.

As horse owners, we can also help. Here are some things we can do:

• Prepare the horse: Train it to lift its legs and stand still.
• Be present: Assist the farrier by holding the horse and watching for its reactions.
• Reward good work: An extra bit of cash or a few kind words can mean a lot to a farrier who’s shown patience and skill with your horse.
• Be honest: Inform the farrier of any challenges and discuss together how to handle them.
• Offer a reward or hay for the horse: Keep it calm and content during the process.

My current farrier is incredibly attentive. My old broodmare struggles to stand still for trimming due to past hoof abscesses in one front hoof, and she fears it might hurt. He trims a little on each hoof, frequently switching, so she doesn’t have to keep one hoof up for long. I praised him extensively for doing this, and he was so happy that I noticed his efforts.

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A Relationship to Nurture

Farriers are an invaluable part of every horse owner’s life. We need to work together and respect their work. At the same time, farriers have the right to refuse dangerous jobs or clients who fail to prepare their horses properly. It’s a collaboration built on mutual respect, understanding, and good communication.

Why Is It So Expensive to Breed SWB Horses in Sweden?

Last week, I wrote about how many people long for the classic SWB horse – a versatile horse that everyone can enjoy, regardless of ambition level. I received a lot of responses confirming that this sentiment is widely shared, but also that the old type of SWB horse was just as costly to produce as today’s sport-focused SWBs.

Today, I’d like to ask a new question: Why is it so expensive to breed Swedish Warmbloods, and is there anything we can do about it?

Many horses are bred in Sweden, so why does breeding an SWB cost more compared to, say, a Nordsvensk? Let’s start with the basics: feed.

Does an SWB really eat that much more than a Nordsvensk? Does it require more minerals, supplements, or concentrated feed that drive up the costs? Are hoof trims more expensive for an SWB than for a Nordsvensk? I don’t think so.

Does an SWB need a bigger stall, more expensive box, or specially designed paddock? Is veterinary care more costly for an SWB, or is it at greater risk for injuries? Does it need more frequent vaccinations or special care that makes upkeep pricier? And how about insurance – is it more expensive to insure an SWB than other breeds, and if so, why?

Now, we’re getting closer to one factor that may indeed drive up the cost: breeding stock. Is it more expensive to buy a broodmare for SWB breeding than for other breeds? What is the difference in cost between breeding an SWB and a Nordsvensk?

One significant factor that could be driving up the costs of SWB breeding is that many breeders now use artificial insemination for warmbloods. As one person mentioned, you can’t just take the mare over to a neighboring stallion anymore. Today, you’re paying for insemination services, veterinarians, and multiple trips with the mare back and forth.

But why is an SWB stallion so expensive? Nordsvensk stallions also go through thorough inspections to be approved for breeding; they’re judged with strict criteria and must show good qualities to be approved. Is it just snobbery, or is there really a difference – or is it simply that different types of people own and breed these horses?

These are questions I’ve thought about since I bought my first warmblood. And you don’t even need to compare them to Nordsvensks – you could also look at the prices for Thoroughbreds. Added to this is the high cost of getting a horse trained under saddle, as another person pointed out. Of course, you could sell the horse before it’s started under saddle, or perhaps train it yourself, but there’s no denying that the cost of a basic education can be high.

I understand that horses competing at high levels come at a premium, but here, we’re only talking about the costs of basic breeding. An SWB is, after all, essentially a crossbred horse that’s been selectively bred over time to create a “breed.” Does that alone justify the price tag?

As I mentioned last time, I’ve been breeding horses myself for almost 40 years, primarily warmbloods. I had SWBs, Polish Warmbloods, Hungarian Warmbloods, and Danish Warmbloods in my breeding program, and they were similar in type to the SWB. I never had trouble selling them and received a reasonable price for the offspring, so it was possible to break even.

My way of keeping costs down was to keep the horses on a loose housing system, allowing them plenty of pasture time, making our own hay, and buying oats and barley from a local farmer. We also had our own stallion, and other breeders would bring mares to breed with him. We even received EU subsidies for the grazing land.

I know that costs have gone up, but so have horse prices, so why do so few breeders today seem able to make ends meet?

These are just my reflections – I’m not pointing fingers at anyone. No one is forced to breed horses; if you feel it’s a losing proposition and not worth the investment, you can simply stop.

I’m curious to see if I’ll get any responses because this is still a mystery to me!

On the picture you see my SWB stallion Mackay 1979-2007 . I was breeding on him for many years.

Why Imported Horses in Sweden?

I’ve heard from Swedish breeders that selling Swedish horses is difficult because they are more expensive to produce, and many buyers aren’t willing to pay the higher prices associated with breeding Swedish horses.

I’ve followed this trend for many years and have a theory about it. My theory might not apply to everyone, but as a former breeder and dealer, I’ve discussed this with many people.

When I was growing up, owning a Swedish Warmblood was considered prestigious—and it still is to some extent, but in a different way.

Firstly, a SWB horse is more expensive because the costs for feed, shoes, labor, and much more are higher in Sweden. Naturally, this makes the final product more expensive. Many people are indeed willing to pay more for a Swedish horse because they know where it’s bred, what it’s been fed, and how it’s been cared for. BUT, the big difference is that in the past, you would get a reliable all-rounder, the type most hobby riders wanted—a horse that could do a bit of everything and was ideal for leisure riding.

Over the years, these horses have been refined and bred for specific niches, with larger gaits and higher potential. These horses are fantastic if you’re seriously pursuing competition and have time to train and develop them. However, more than 80% of riders today want a hobby horse that doesn’t become challenging if it’s had a day off. If SWB horses today were more like the old type, I believe there wouldn’t be an issue selling them.

Breeders want to get as much as possible for their offspring, and since breeding in Sweden is costly, they often choose stallions that are trending in the competition world. But the average rider doesn’t want a horse with such big, flashy gaits that it’s hard to sit in the trot, nor one with super-sensitive nerves, and definitely not a horse that stands over 175 cm. So people start looking outside of Sweden.

SWB horses are also often hard to use in riding schools (not all, of course, but many). This was why I imported many horses from Hungary that I then sold to riding schools. Hungarian breeds tend to be more versatile, without exaggerated movements. These horses became very popular in riding schools, and even private buyers were relieved to try such a horse. In recent years, PRE and Andalusian horses have also become popular, as they are of a more manageable size (slightly smaller) and comfortable to sit on.

I believe more people would want to buy Swedish horses if they were more like the old Swedish Warmblood. I bred Palominos myself—essentially old-style Warmbloods—and never had trouble selling them (nearly 40 years of experience).

Today, there are fewer horses bred than there is demand for in Sweden, so importing becomes necessary to meet the needs of those who want horses. I believe Swedish breeders should consider aiming not just for the “star” that’s expected to bring in big income but rather for steady returns on all their offspring by focusing on even temperaments and balanced breeding. The entire equestrian industry is rethinking things—why not breeding too?

What do you think?

Make Money with Horses!

I’m one of those people who’s had horses in my blood since I was little. Why, I’m not quite sure – no one in my family had anything to do with horses. My father was allergic, and my mother was terrified of them. But my biggest dream as a child was to work with horses and earn enough to put food on the table.

I often heard that it wasn’t possible to make money from horses – that they only brought costs, and big ones at that. But I was determined and convinced I’d find a way. And I did. I became a saddlemaker, a breeder, and a horse dealer.

In fact, becoming a horse dealer happened by chance. I started with a couple of ponies and gradually worked my way up until I could eventually buy many horses, some of them from Hungary. I loved finding good horses, and my intention was always to provide them with a good home – while being able to support myself. I had realized that it was hard to make ends meet as just a saddlemaker.

For the most part, things went well, and I had many satisfied customers. But occasionally, I encountered skepticism – people thinking that as a horse dealer, I only cared about money. I always aimed to match the right horse with the right rider and offered honest advice to buyers. But sometimes, I’d hear comments like, “You just want to sell the most expensive horse to make more money.” That was far from the truth. Better horses cost me more too, and I didn’t necessarily make more profit on them, but they were often easier to sell because of their quality.

I don’t actually want to focus too much on what it was like to sell horses, but rather to share an important point: Those of us who work with horses usually do it because we’re passionate about it, not just for the money. If, for example, you’re a farrier, you don’t recommend shoeing a horse just to make more money, but because it’s what’s best for that specific horse. If you sell feed, you want to recommend the best feed so the horse owner has a healthy and thriving horse – so the customer comes back, happy and satisfied.

If you want to work with horses and have an income, there are many professions you can train for where you can actually make a good living. Many might first think of dealing or training horses, which can be hard work. But there are other paths too, like massage therapy, equine therapy, chiropractic, veterinarian work, or becoming a farrier if you want to work directly with horses. And if you’d prefer to work indirectly, there are opportunities in feed consultancy, equipment sales, saddlemaking, selling trailers, fencing, stable fittings, and much more. Things have changed a lot since I was young, and the horse industry has grown, both for better and for worse.

So don’t believe the myth that you can’t make a living with horses! 🙂

Charli’s Update!

I’ve had many horses throughout my life, and suddenly, last year, I found myself with only two left. Those of you who have had many horses know how empty that can feel. It wasn’t the relief that many people think it would be. One of the two is a mare, so I started considering whether I should breed her to get another horse, but I was very hesitant. I thought about the fact that if she had a foal, I would be over 70 by the time it would be ready to start training, and I wasn’t keen on that. The alternative would be to sell the offspring, which made me even more doubtful, though I still thought it might be fun to have a foal.

In Hungary, you can have a mare inseminated at home, which I found convenient since I wouldn’t need to take her anywhere. All I had to do was wait for her to go into heat. But she didn’t that summer, or perhaps it was extremely difficult to notice, which is unusual because she usually shows clear signs. Not that time. I didn’t want to induce her cycle with injections, especially since I was already unsure about having a foal. So, I figured she had made the decision herself.

A year passed, and spring came. I got an opportunity to rescue a horse that was about to be sent to slaughter. I was told he had a ligament injury and couldn’t be ridden, but that didn’t matter much to me. When he arrived, he was very lame, and I found out that he had worn ring shoes for six years to help him walk better. In the first few days, I wondered if I had made a mistake and maybe he should have been slaughtered because of how lame he was. But I wanted to give him a chance—he was such a kind and gentle horse. What could I do? Having ring shoes clearly hadn’t helped him, so I asked my farrier to remove the shoes and simply trim his hooves.

Naturally, it was an adjustment for Csarli to walk without shoes, but the ground here is soft, so he was still just as lame. He was putting so much weight on his healthy front leg that that hoof was completely flat, while the other, the injured one, had a normal angle since it wasn’t being loaded. I knew that progress wouldn’t happen overnight, but I spoke with several experts who told me that ligament injuries can actually heal if the hooves are trimmed properly. That gave me hope. Today was the second time he’s had his hooves trimmed since the shoes were removed, and you can see the results in the pictures. He has slowly but surely improved and is limping less and less, and a few days ago, I saw him trot voluntarily for the first time.

Now, I’m no longer afraid that I made the wrong decision. Even if he doesn’t improve more than this, he’s doing well enough to enjoy his retirement and live a good life as a horse.

Picture 1+2 is when I got him and 3+4 is now.