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Bent in Svinninge

Over the years, I have gathered many stories from my life with horses and have written about several of the people I have met along the way. Not every story has a “happy ending,” but every life has its conclusion, and each one is unique. The man I want to write about today chose how his story would end – and even though the ending was deeply sorrowful, his story is not. Life has an end, but it is up to us to make the journey worth living.

Today, I want to tell you about Bent in Svinninge, a man I got to know when I lived in Denmark. He is worth remembering, and lately, memories of him have been surfacing again and again. While searching for some old pictures, I came across one where Bent was plowing with his two horses—both offspring of my stallion Mackay. I also recently ordered two new wheels for a stallion gig I once bought from Bent. It almost feels like he wants me to tell his story.

I had been living in Kalundborg, Denmark, for a few years, running a boarding stable for horses. One of my clients was a woman who had recently moved from her farm and was looking for a new home. She rented several stalls from me, and during that time, she had one of her mares bred to Mackay. The foal turned out beautifully, and when Bent saw it, he decided he wanted to breed his mare to Mackay as well.

One day, without any warning, he showed up with his mare.

“Well, she’s in heat now, so I might as well leave her here,” he said matter-of-factly.

Luckily, I had a stall available, but I was certainly caught off guard. That was Bent in a nutshell—everything at full speed, nothing left to chance. He was hardworking, meticulous, and always had something new in the works. We became good friends, and soon, I was invited to visit his incredible farm.

Bent ran a dairy farm, but he also had horses, magnificent carriages, and harnesses—all in pristine condition. When I first met him, he was alone, handling everything himself, but later, he found a woman as energetic as he was. Together, they built their home into something truly special. He eventually phased out the dairy business to focus more on carriage driving. He and his wife offered wedding and graduation carriage rides, and he had a particular white wedding carriage that was stunningly beautiful. It was an enormous undertaking, so they bought a truck to transport both the horses and the carriage.

Bent loved everything fun, and one of my most vivid memories is of a Midsummer celebration at his place. He had invited all his friends—at least 50 people. He had slaughtered a cow and hired a chef to grill it on the farmyard. The weather was perfect, warm and pleasant. In Denmark, it is tradition to light a bonfire on Midsummer, and Bent had gathered an enormous pile of branches to set ablaze. Dressed in an immaculate white suit, he hesitated briefly before lighting the fire—concerned that it might be too dry and that the flames could get out of control. But Bent was Bent, and once he made up his mind, things happened fast.

The fire caught immediately and became larger than expected. In the next instant, Bent regretted lighting it. Without hesitation, he leaped into the flames and stomped feverishly on the embers until he managed to put the fire out—all without getting a single mark on his white suit! We were left speechless before bursting into laughter. It was just so typical of him—impulsive, decisive, and fearless.

Sometimes, Bent ended up with too many horses, and I helped him sell some, even after I moved to Sweden. His horses were large, beautiful, and always easy to sell.

Then everything changed. His wife fell ill and passed away from cancer. The loss was devastating, and without her, it became difficult for Bent to continue his carriage-driving business—he had no one to help him. He started selling off his carriages and donated some to a museum. That was when I bought my gig from him.

One day, he asked me to help him find new homes for his remaining horses. He admitted it was getting harder and harder for him to keep up. He had undergone hip surgery and could no longer run—something that clashed with his entire way of life. Bent was used to things moving at 190 km/h, but now everything was slowing down. Too slow.

Two weeks after I had picked up the last of his horses, I received the news that Bent had chosen to leave this world.

He never wanted to be a burden to anyone, and in true Bent fashion, he made sure things happened on his own terms—just as he always had.

It hurts to think about, but one thing I know for sure: Bent lived more in his lifetime than most people do in twice the time. I will never forget him.

My Side Job!

When I lived in Mörrum, I had my own farm. It had been subdivided, but I was able to rent some land next to it, which gave me both a paddock and grazing for my horses. I loved living there, and my large house had plenty of space for my saddlery workshop.

However, living alone meant I needed a steady income to cover all the bills. Even though I had customers in my saddlery business, it wasn’t always enough. The hourly wage for a saddler wasn’t very high, and sometimes I only had small repairs to do. On top of that, I wasn’t very good at charging for my work. So, I often took on extra jobs to afford keeping my horses.

For many years, I didn’t have a car—it was simply too expensive. I rented out a few stable spots and sometimes got a ride with my boarders to the village to buy groceries. That way, I got to know a lot of people, and many were helpful in their own ways.

One day, I got in touch with a dairy farmer who lived a few kilometers away. He asked if I wanted to earn some extra money by working as a relief milker for him. Of course, I said yes! But how would I get there? I didn’t have a car, not even a bicycle… but I did have a horse!

I asked the farmer if he had a spare stall where I could keep my horse while I worked. He did, and he thought it was a great idea! He had a North Swedish horse himself, but he said it wouldn’t be a problem—he could turn her out while I was there.

And so it was settled! I started working for Aldo and rode my stallion, Mackay, to the farm every day. It was a perfect arrangement—Mackay got exercise and built up his fitness, I had a job, and Aldo got the help he needed. On top of that, Aldo was a true animal lover, and he didn’t like the idea of Mackay standing there without food. So, he always gave him some silage, which meant I saved money on horse feed as well!

It was truly a win-win situation, even though it wasn’t always fun to head out in the dark when it was -20°C. But it worked! Mackay got silage, which was quite unusual for horses at the time. However, Aldo’s silage was of the highest quality, dried in a silo, and Mackay thrived on it. Aldo had even won awards for his dairy cows and high-quality milk, so he was very particular about what the animals were fed.

It was a great job, and I stayed there for a long time.

The Universe Intervenes

Call it fate, but I saw an ad for a 15-year-old gelding competing at St. George level. The seller cared deeply about finding the right home, and I felt I could offer a good one. I knew the price would likely be beyond my budget, but I called anyway. You never know—has always been my motto, and it has helped me in many different situations.

The owner, Camilla, was very pleasant and encouraged me to come for a test ride. She was even willing to arrange a payment plan if we were a good match. I told her the whole story about Markant and how I would need to sell him to recover some of my money. But I didn’t want to sell him to just anyone—I wanted to release myself from any responsibility for him.

I traveled to Katrineholm to try Bekila, as the horse was called, and I was absolutely thrilled. He was a fantastic horse. Camilla liked my riding style, as I was very soft, which suited Bekila well since he was a Thoroughbred and needed a gentle hand. She mentioned that several people had come to try him, but most were too rough in their riding. I was overjoyed! She agreed to sell him to me—but how would I afford it?

Camilla started asking about Markant, and I didn’t hold anything back. However, when I described his movement and beauty, she became interested. She suggested that she could take him in for training, and based on my description, she was convinced that once he was ready for sale, the price would cover Bekila’s purchase cost.

I was over the moon. I had been almost ready to give Markant away, and now I had an offer that felt almost too good to be true. I told Camilla to be careful and not to feel bad if it didn’t work out—we would find another solution if needed. But she was completely convinced it would all go smoothly.

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Camilla’s Struggles with Markant

Camilla took Markant home, and I asked her to check in regularly—mostly to make sure she was still alive! She promised she would. The first week went well, but the following week she called and told me that he had tried to throw her off. She had managed to stay on, though, and after that, he had to work hard in their gravel pit. She was confident that he was now on the right track.

Of course, I was happy to hear this, but I still warned her—she should never take anything for granted and had to stay cautious.

Another week passed before she called again. This time, she sounded more shaken.
“Now I know what you were talking about!”

Markant had thrown her off properly, and she hadn’t stood a chance of staying on. Still, she didn’t want to give up. But… she had received an offer for him! The buyer knew about his quirks but had seen him and wanted him anyway. The offer was high enough that I could fully pay for Bekila, compensate Camilla for her efforts—and even have some money left over.

I nearly screamed into the phone:
“SELL! SELL NOW!”

Camilla hesitated, thinking she might be able to get even more for him if she rode him for a while longer. But I strongly advised against it:
“No, no! What if you break your arms and legs? Or if he injures himself running home? If the buyer knows what he’s getting into and still wants him—call immediately and close the deal!”

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All’s Well That Ends Well!

And so it happened. Markant ended up with a dressage rider who continued working with him.

I stayed in touch with Camilla for quite a while, and a few years later, she told me that Markant had become a huge success. He had won district championships and several competitions. Eventually, he was sold again for a six-figure sum—an enormous amount 40 years ago! He was an incredible and willing horse, agile and talented, as long as he was in an arena or indoor school. But… when the interns took him out for a walk in the woods? He still came home by himself.

I can also add that there was never anything physically wrong with him. He was X-rayed before the sale, and the vet told Camilla:
“I should frame this X-ray and hang it on my wall—this is the finest skeletal structure I’ve ever seen!”

As for me, I had a few wonderful years with Bekila and learned an incredible amount.

On the picture is me and Bekila:

My Most Difficult and Worst Horse!

About 40 years ago, I lived in Mörrum. I really enjoyed it there and had many wonderful friends. Among them were Ann and Lasse, a couple from whom I had bought a Collie. They were also interested in horses.

Ann had decided she wanted to buy a hobby horse—one she could ride a little and perhaps breed a foal from. She had found an ad from Erik Nilsén, a well-known eventing rider and breeder, who was reducing his breeding program. He had many horses, so there were plenty of options to look at. Ann asked if I wanted to come along, and of course, I said yes—I never turn down an opportunity to meet like-minded horse enthusiasts and see beautiful horses.

I was also looking for a new horse myself. I was tired of constantly buying young horses, training them, and then selling them. It meant that I never really progressed in my own riding or in competitions. Now, I wanted an older horse, one that was already trained so I could continue working with it.

Visiting Nilsén

We set off to see what Nilsén had to offer, and there was truly a large selection! A herd of 35–40 horses roamed the pasture. It was early spring, so they were all shaggy and rough-coated, but you could still see the quality of the horses beneath the thick fur.

Ann explained what she was looking for, and Nilsén recommended a chestnut mare called The Merry Widow. She had been unrideable until the age of seven, but they had finally managed to train her. Now, she was the sweetest horse and had even been used in a riding school. She seemed calm and reliable, and Ann fell for her immediately. There was no doubt—she was getting The Widow.

After looking at all the horses, Ann asked:
“Haven’t you found one?”

I had decided to buy a trained horse, but one still caught my eye—a gray horse with incredible movement. I tried to be sensible but couldn’t help asking about the price. It turned out he was a four-year-old gelding—and The Widow’s son! Ann thought it was an obvious choice for me to buy him—it would be so much fun.

The price was also very low, so the decision was made quickly. I figured that if he didn’t turn out as I wanted, I could always sell him later.

Markant Moves In

The horses at Nilsén’s farm were used to being outdoors a lot and were kept in tie stalls overnight, so he was accustomed to being tied up. I thought that was a big advantage. However, the young horses were not handled much, so I had to start from scratch.

I named him Markant, after a previous horse I had loved. Maybe giving him a name I liked would help? I took things very slowly with him, and at first, everything went better than expected. He accepted both the saddle and bridle, and after a while, I was able to get on. He was a very alert horse, so I took my time.

But one day, when I was going to ride him in the arena, came the first real protest. I put my foot in the stirrup, got just into the saddle—and suddenly, he exploded into a series of bucks. I had no chance of staying on.

I hit the ground hard, but I knew I had to get back on. I scrambled up, and this time, he walked quietly.

For the next few days, he was calm, but soon another outburst came. Back then, I was very brave and didn’t give up easily, but after he had thrown me off completely unprovoked several times, I started to realize it wasn’t worth risking my life for such an unpredictable horse.

Help from a Friend

I talked to Ann and Lasse about the situation. We had in the back of our minds that The Widow had been unrideable until the age of seven, so maybe Markant had inherited too much of her temperament.

Lasse, who had grown up in a competitive riding family, offered to try and see if he could work it out. I was hesitant—should I really risk my friends’ safety? But Lasse insisted, so we gave it a shot.

Mörrum’s riding arena wasn’t far from my home, so I led Markant there and had him on a lunge line. I offered to hold onto him while Lasse rode, but he preferred to ride freely so he could direct the horse where he wanted.

It didn’t take long before Markant started his acrobatics—but Lasse stayed on. We were very impressed, and I felt a flicker of hope when Markant slowed down, convinced that it had gone well.

At that very moment, Markant suddenly spun around and crashed straight through a solid wooden fence. Lasse went flying—he had absolutely not expected the horse to take off through the fence.

The horse ran home, and we walked after him. Lasse offered to try again, but I said no. I didn’t want to risk an accident, either with myself or my friends.

I realized that I truly needed an older, trained horse.

Since this is a long story, it will continue next week!

(A slightly blurry picture of Markant—people didn’t take as many pictures back then!)

Do You Talk to Your Horse?

I believe that all of us who have horses talk to them in one way or another. It feels completely natural – we share our time, our daily lives, and often our emotions with them. Sometimes, it even feels like our horses truly understand us, doesn’t it?

But even though we constantly communicate with them, we actually speak two completely different languages. We humans think in words and logic, while horses think in images and feelings. So, even though we can teach them commands and routines, have you ever thought about how much you actually listen to your horse? How it expresses itself – and what it’s trying to tell you?

Many people might say: “Well, I keep my horse’s stall clean, I feed it at the right times, and I bring it inside when it wants.” But are those truly the horse’s own desires – or are they simply things we humans have decided it needs?

Horses Communicate in Images

Did you know that horses think in images? And that you can actually transfer images to your horse through your mind? This means that when you’re with your horse but your head is full of everyday worries – like what to cook for dinner, when to pick up the kids, or that your car is broken – your horse might pick up on the images you’re unconsciously sending.

That’s why it’s so important to be mentally present when working with your horse. If you focus on your horse and your connection, you’ll soon notice a change. Your horse can feel when you’re truly there – and when you’re just physically present but mentally somewhere else.

What Does Your Horse Want?

A common concern is: “But if my horse gets to decide, it won’t want to work!”

But have you really tested that? And if your horse doesn’t want to work – have you asked yourself why? Is it because it’s lazy, or is it because it doesn’t see any meaning in what you’re asking? Maybe the work feels uncomfortable or stressful, maybe there’s a physical issue, or maybe the horse simply hasn’t understood what you want.

Horses want to connect with us, but if we only take and never give, there won’t be any real cooperation. Eventually, the horse stops expressing its own needs and just does what we say because it’s easier. We might interpret that as the horse being obedient and well-behaved – but in reality, it has simply given up.

Listen to Your Horse

If your horse doesn’t want to work with you, take it as an opportunity to pause and truly feel the situation. Is it physically okay? Are there signs of pain or stiffness? Does it feel safe in its environment? Or has it perhaps learned that training is always repetitive or unpleasant?

By being more attentive to your horse’s signals, you can create a deeper and more meaningful relationship. When your horse feels seen and understood, it will want to cooperate – not because it has to, but because it wants to.

So, next time you’re with your horse, take a deep breath, let go of all other thoughts, and be fully present in the moment. Tune into your horse, listen to what it’s trying to tell you – and most importantly, have fun together!

How Should One Interpret This?

For me, it has always been important to have fun in whatever I do! It hasn’t always worked out, but it’s always worth trying, right?

When I had my North Swedish stallion, Kosack, I used to invite my friends to the stable during winter when there was snow. Nearby, there were some great hills—ironically, in a village called Slätten, which means “the plains.” It was the most hilly plain I had ever seen!

My idea was simple: I would ride Kosack and pull my friends, two at a time, up the hill while they stood on skis. Then they could ski down at full speed. We basically became a living ski lift! It was a big hit—my friends loved not having to hike up the hill themselves.

But what about me? I wanted to ski too! So one day, when I was alone at the stable, I decided to try skijoring with Kosack. The only problem was: how do you do that when you’re alone?

I didn’t want to risk pulling on his mouth, so I came up with a plan. I used towing lines and a swingle tree, then tied a rope from the swingle tree to a belt I wore. To be safe, I added a quick-release so I could detach myself if needed.

With everything set, we headed down to a field. It wasn’t easy getting there—leading a horse, carrying skis, and dragging a swingle tree all at once was quite the challenge! But I was determined to make it work. I only had an old pair of cross-country skis with tricky bindings, but that wasn’t going to stop me.

Once we arrived, I parked Kosack, got into position behind him, and started strapping in. I had just managed to put on one ski when Kosack got a little impatient and took a few steps forward. BAM! I went face-first into the snow since I was still attached to the swingle tree.

Trying to get up in deep snow, bundled in thick winter clothes while holding onto the reins, was no easy task. But being as stubborn as I was, I gave it another go. I got both skis on and was just about to stand up—when Kosack took another few steps. BAM! Face-first again!

As I looked up, he turned his head back toward me. I swear, I could see him laughing!

Three times I fell, but on the fourth try, I finally made it. I took off, wobbly but triumphant. However, maneuvering the long skis was harder than I had expected, so I fell once more. But I refused to give up. Eventually, I got the hang of it and even managed to ski all the way back up the hill to the stable.

Can you guess how exhausted I was after all that effort? But I did it, and it was fun while it lasted!

On the picture Kosack as a 3 years old stallion in 1981.

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A Lifetime Struggle with Glasses

Everyone has their challenges, and mine has been my eyesight. I’ve been half-blind for most of my life, and as a kid, I was often called “four-eyes” in school. I got my first pair of glasses when I was eight—and I hated them. Not because I wasn’t grateful for being able to see, but with a -7 prescription in both eyes and astigmatism, my thick “bottle-bottom” lenses weren’t exactly flattering.

Back then, glasses were expensive. The lenses were partially covered by insurance, but the frames had to be paid for out of pocket. Since my eyesight kept changing as I grew, I needed new glasses every year. My parents accepted this, but they weren’t too happy when I needed more than one pair per year.

Horses and Glasses – A Bad Combination

As a child, I was constantly on the move (I probably would have been diagnosed with some attention disorder today), and glasses were always in the way—especially when I started riding horses. They got scratched, sat crooked, and fogged up every time it was cold or rainy.

When I turned 16, I was finally allowed to wear contact lenses. Soft lenses had just been introduced, and it felt like a revolution—a total game-changer!

But before that, I had my own “methods” for avoiding glasses, which often led to disaster.

The Great Catastrophe at Rudesjön

One summer, we were at our favorite swimming spot at Rudesjön. Large rocks stretched out into the water, allowing us to walk a bit before swimming to a small rock island further out, where we would sunbathe and dive into the deep water on one side.

One day, the water was a bit chilly, but I didn’t want to seem weak, so I jumped in and swam off—without thinking about my glasses still being on my face.

The moment I was underwater, I realized my mistake. When I surfaced, they were gone.

It was the middle of summer vacation, and getting a new pair wasn’t easy. I was devastated—spending the rest of the summer half-blind was not something I looked forward to.

My friend Eva-Lill tried helping me dive for them, but it was hopeless. The bottom was either rocky or covered in thick mud, and the water was so murky that we couldn’t see a thing.

When I got home and told my mom, I was completely discouraged. But shortly after, Eva-Lill’s father arrived on his bike—with a homemade “glasses rescuer”! He had bent the teeth of a leaf rake, attached it to a long handle, and suggested we try fishing for my glasses.

I didn’t have much hope, but after a while—miraculously—he fished them up! I had never been so happy to see my glasses again.

Short-Lived Happiness

My joy didn’t last long. Less than a week later, I left my glasses on the couch—and my unsuspecting brother sat on them. They snapped right in half.

With tape and glue (duct tape didn’t exist back then), we managed to fix them well enough. At least I could see again—for the time being.

But fate had more in store for my poor glasses.

The Riding Mishap That Sealed Their Fate

A few days later, I was out riding my beloved horse, Fatima. She was always energetic, and as we trotted down a narrow trail, I suddenly got a large pine branch straight in the face—knocking my glasses off… again.

Somehow, I managed to ride home without them. Then my mom and I went out searching. For some reason, she let me lead the way to show where I had lost them. That turned out to be a terrible idea.

Because suddenly, I heard a crunch under my foot.

I had stepped right on my glasses.

One lens was now shattered, and the frame was broken.

A Makeshift Solution

Now it was a real crisis. Trying to see with one eye while the other is blind makes you completely dizzy. We improvised—replacing the broken lens with a piece of cardboard and gluing the frame together again. It worked—barely.

A week later, my dad arrived with my old glasses from home so I could survive the rest of the summer. They weren’t perfect, but at least I could see—somewhat.

And so ended yet another chapter in the tragic life of my poor glasses.

The photo is of me and Fatima! Without saddel and without glasses:)

Have a Well-Stocked Stable First Aid Kit – Be Prepared for the Unexpected!

I’ve been following discussions on Facebook about how veterinary costs are skyrocketing, and I’ve also seen frustrated horse owners battling with insurance companies to get compensation when accidents happen. Owning a horse is expensive, and it becomes even more costly when something goes wrong.

You can’t completely prevent accidents – horses are animals and can get themselves into the strangest situations. However, you can do a lot to prepare, such as ensuring you have a safe stable, good fencing, and a well-stocked first aid kit.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t call the vet when necessary, but there’s a lot you can handle on your own. One example is looking at what your horse eats. I’ve often helped horse owners investigate the root causes of illnesses or injuries, and more often than not, it traces back to the diet. We’re sometimes too generous with our horses, giving them too much concentrated feed, vitamins, or minerals. Horses are fundamentally designed to move and graze – not to stand in stalls for long periods. Lack of exercise or social interaction can lead to excess energy, and that, in turn, can lead to accidents.

Of course, accidents can happen no matter what we do. When they do, being prepared is key. When we get a minor injury, like a cut or a sprain, we usually don’t rush to the doctor right away. Instead, we see if it gets better on its own, maybe bandage it, and wait. It’s similar with horses. Over the years, I’ve learned a lot and have taken care of many minor injuries myself, especially since calling a vet every time can become very expensive.

That said, I know how frustrating it can be when your first aid kit doesn’t have what you need. For instance, it’s incredibly tricky to get something to stay on a horse’s leg. Bandages often fall off, and if they do, the horse can trip over them or step on them, which can make things worse. I’ve sometimes used duct tape and gauze in emergencies – not ideal, but it works when you’re in a pinch.

Recently, I came across Martin Goodman from Rheva, who introduced me to a wound plaster designed specifically for horses. I was thrilled! Protecting wounds on horses that live outside has always been a challenge. In the past, there was a product called Socatyl – a salve that hardened once applied – but it’s no longer available. Most modern ointments just melt and run off before they can do any good.

Now, I have Rheva’s horse plaster in my first aid kit, and I feel much more confident. The best part is that it allows wounds to heal without anything rubbing or irritating them, which speeds up healing and prevents infections from flies or dirt.

It’s amazing to see new solutions like this being developed for horse owners. This plaster feels like a real breakthrough and a big step forward!

The picture shows my young horse, who was a master at walking into bushes and branches that didn’t move out of the way. Back then, I only had duct tape to work with, but now I’ll be much better prepared! 😊

When All You Want to Do is Ride!

When I was a child, I spent most of my time looking for horses I could be with – and ideally ride. I had become friends with Bertil, who owned several horses. In addition to his own, he often took in horses for training or driving. He also had mares come to his stallion, and they would often stay on his pastures all summer to ensure they became pregnant.

This meant Bertil had paddocks scattered all over the place. This was in Blekinge, near the Småland border, an area with lots of forests and rocks. You had to make the most of the small patches of grass here and there.

That summer, Bertil had taken in a young stallion he was training to drive. Everyone who left their horses with Bertil usually said, “That girl can ride them a bit too, to get them used to it.” Naturally, I was more than happy to help! If the horses had already been worked a little in harness, it was rarely a problem to ride them as well.

Bertil had been working with the stallion for a while, and I had ridden him a few times. He was super calm and willing. Then Bertil decided the stallion could go out to pasture for a while to let what he’d learned sink in. The pasture was quite far from my home, but I didn’t see that as a problem. I had my legs to walk on and all the time in the world!

The stallion was turned out on a pasture on the other side of Rude Lake, where we used to swim. I had almost three kilometers to walk down to the lake. Once there, I would take a boat we kept by the shore and row across to the other side – quite a long way, actually. From the shore, it was only about 500 meters to the pasture.

I had borrowed a bridle so I could ride the stallion a little while he was out on the pasture. Riding him in the paddock worked fine. The stallion was friendly and came over to me when I arrived. I put on the bridle, found a rock to climb up on, and mounted. He accepted it all calmly, and I started to let him walk a bit in the paddock.

At first, everything went well, but he wasn’t fully trained yet, and soon he started heading off in his own direction. His pasture buddy, finding this very entertaining, suddenly began galloping around. The stallion decided to join in the fun, launching into a series of bucks that caught me completely off guard.

I flew off in a wide arc and landed on my back in a patch of nettles and blackberry bushes. Luckily, I missed the large rocks in the paddock – otherwise, it could have ended badly. I could barely move, but I managed to get to my feet eventually. I was sore all over and covered in stings from the nettles and scratches from the brambles.

But my first thought was still: I need to get the bridle off the stallion so he doesn’t hurt himself!

Fortunately, the horses had calmed down, and I managed to catch the stallion without too much trouble and remove the bridle. After that, I hobbled back to the boat, rowed across the lake, and walked the three kilometers home to our summer cottage – bruised and battered.

When my mom saw me, she immediately knew something was wrong. I had to convince her it wasn’t so bad. Imagine if she had forbidden me from riding again – that would have been a disaster!

Bertil never found out that I’d been thrown. I simply told him that maybe it was a good idea for the stallion to have a proper break while he was out on pasture. When the stallion returned, I rode him again, and it went much better when his pasture buddy wasn’t running loose beside us.

We riders are tough, and I often look back on how much I’ve endured for my love of horses. But it has always been worth it!

The photo is from the early 70s where I am riding a North Swedish Stallion Hamn. The saddel is from the arme and not very comfortable:)

Do Your Horses Have Mud Fever?

Mud fever and scratches are very common in horses, especially if you live in a place with rainy and mild winters. I’ve lived in different places and have noticed a huge difference in how easily my horses got mud fever.

For 20 years, I lived in northern Skåne, Sweden, where we had major issues. It was a marshy area with frequent rain, and we had wetlands nearby. Even though we had large, beautiful pastures, the horses often stood by the gates, churning up the ground and ending up standing in mud up to their knees. When we built our paddock paradise, we poured a large concrete area where the horses had their feeding station. It was absolutely necessary; otherwise, they wouldn’t have had a dry place to stand.

Even though we did everything we could for the horses’ well-being, they often got mud fever. The weather made it so that their legs were almost always damp, which caused the mud fever to become a recurring issue – something that was challenging for both the horses and us.

What’s interesting is that when you ask others – veterinarians, farriers, or breeders – for advice on how to prevent mud fever, you’ll always get different answers. Some say you should wash the horses’ legs daily when you bring them in, while others say you shouldn’t touch their legs too much because scrubbing the skin can open it up to bacteria. You’re left to experiment and find what works best for your horses.

I think I’ve tried everything: mud fever ointments that turned into sticky layers collecting dirt; drying the legs; washing the legs – but what worked best for us was Blåsten or Virkon S.

I discovered that if you mix Blåsten with water and put it in a spray bottle, you can spray the horses’ legs daily, which helped keep the mud fever somewhat under control. At one point, I even had to sell a horse at a very low price because he couldn’t handle our pastures. His legs swelled up like telephone poles, and no treatment worked. Thankfully, he went to a better place where the ground was drier, with healthier soil bacteria than we had. Keeping horses indoors all the time isn’t a solution either – it stresses them out, and they need to move to maintain proper blood circulation in their legs.

Why Am I Writing About This Now?

Well, good things happen in life, and there are actually people researching ways to help horses with this issue. Some time ago, I came across a group of people who had developed a unique product for mud fever. I was very curious about it, and now that it has been tested and proven effective, I can confirm that it really works!

The best part is that I am now sponsored by FHORZE, the company behind this product, and I can help spread the word about how we can finally get rid of mud fever. I know that many people need this product, so I plan to host giveaways soon where you can win “Muggfri.”

I’m truly excited to present this product, which I believe will help people and horses all over the world.