Paul Young Farrier, BSc Hons - Farriery Science, Dip HE, RSS

06/06/2026

They Didn't Choose the War — They Were Forced Into It

When we talk about war, we usually remember soldiers, generals, tanks, and battles.

But hidden between the pages of history is a tragedy that rarely receives the attention it deserves.

The story of the horses.

During the First and Second World Wars, more than 6 million horses lost their lives. They did not volunteer. They did not understand politics. They did not know why nations were fighting. Yet they were sent into the same chaos, fear, hunger, explosions, and death that humans faced.

They pulled artillery through deep mud when engines failed.

They carried wounded soldiers away from the front lines.

They transported food, ammunition, medical supplies, and equipment across impossible terrain.

Without them, entire armies would have struggled to survive.

Many of these horses worked until exhaustion. Some collapsed from hunger. Others were killed by shellfire, machine guns, poison gas, disease, or freezing weather. Thousands died far from home, never seeing the fields where they were born.

Look at this photograph.

A horse stands patiently while humans prepare it for another task.

It does not know what tomorrow will bring.

It trusts the hands that guide it.

And perhaps that is the most heartbreaking part.

Its loyalty was absolute.

Its courage was unquestionable.

Its sacrifice was involuntary.

History often celebrates machines of war.

Yet before engines dominated the battlefield, it was horses that carried civilization through some of its darkest moments.

Imagine the fear they must have felt.

The deafening explosions.

The burning cities.

The endless marches.

And still they kept moving forward.

Not because they were brave in the way humans define bravery.

But because they trusted us.

For centuries horses carried our burdens, built our nations, worked our farms, transported our goods, and stood beside us in peace and war.

They asked for little.

Food.

Shelter.

Kindness.

And in return they gave everything.

Perhaps the greatest tribute we can offer today is simply to remember them.

Not as equipment.

Not as military assets.

But as living beings whose lives were taken by a conflict they never chose.

Millions of hoofbeats were silenced by war.

Yet their legacy remains.

Every memorial.

Every photograph.

Every story.

Every quiet moment when someone pauses to remember.

Because they didn't choose the war.

They were forced into it.

And they deserve never to be forgotten.

16/05/2026

07/05/2026

THE CHEMISTRY OF NOT OVERDOING IT

THE HOOF WALL HAS A SECRET

It doesn't need what's being sold to it.

The outer layer of healthy hoof horn acts as a permeability barrier. Work by Susan Kempson at the University of Edinburgh showed that intact hoof wall significantly limits the pe*******on of water-soluble substances, even under prolonged exposure. The hoof regulates its moisture internally, via blood supply to the corium beneath it — not through what's applied to its surface.

That principle is widely accepted. And it sits in direct contradiction to most of what's written on most hoof product labels.

WHAT THE PRODUCTS ARE ACTUALLY DOING

Oil-based products sit on the surface and repel water. They're not moisturising the horn — they're coating it. Lanolin-based products behave similarly, while glycerin-based formulations act differently again, drawing moisture rather than supplying it.

Some formulations include solvents or alcohols that can be drying in effect, despite being marketed as conditioners.

Some cause active damage. Formalin, harsh solvents, and certain tar-based products can compromise the outer horn layer — the permeability barrier itself. Once that barrier is disrupted, moisture moves in and out of the wall more freely than it should. The product has undermined the mechanism it claimed to support.

Poor quality horn — cracked, compromised, structurally disrupted — is already more permeable. In Kempson's research, damaged wall allowed moisture to pe*****te far more readily than intact horn. The horses most likely to have products applied are often the ones least likely to benefit from them — and most at risk from the wrong ones.

THE PARTS OF THE FOOT WORTH THINKING ABOUT DIFFERENTLY

The sole is more permeable than the wall. It responds to environmental moisture in ways that directly affect sensitivity and bruising risk.

The periople — the thin waxy layer at the coronary band, bridging skin and horn — behaves differently again. Under repeated wet-dry cycling it can become compromised. Supporting the skin and periople with a simple water-based emollient is a more defensible approach than oiling the wall. Different target, different rationale.

Genuine Stockholm tar — pine tar produced by slow distillation, not coal tar substitutes — is one of the few traditional products where chemistry and use align. Its phenol and terpene compounds have antimicrobial properties. Applied to the sole and frog in persistently wet conditions, it can help reduce microbial pressure on vulnerable tissues. That's not conditioning horn — it's a different mechanism with a different purpose.

WHAT HORN QUALITY ACTUALLY DEPENDS ON

Nutrition. Horn quality reflects diet. Copper and zinc are often more relevant than biotin in practice, and quality protein provides the building blocks for keratin. Topical products don't replace them.

Management. Repeated wet-dry cycling creates mechanical stress within the horn matrix. Reducing that through drainage, dry standing areas, and turnout management directly improves horn integrity.

Movement. Consistent movement supports blood flow to the corium, natural sole exfoliation, and appropriate loading of the hoof capsule.

Trim cycle. Imbalance and excess wall length create mechanical forces no topical product can correct.

The hoof wall is not waiting to be conditioned from the outside. It is already doing that work from within. The label is not the biology.

30/04/2026

WHY YOUR HORSE IS SUDDENLY FOOTIER — AND IT'S NOT JUST THE GROUND

Edited for accuracy and clarification on the horn hydration mechanism.

The ground was soft all winter. Now it's baked hard in a week. And your horse is picking their way across the yard like it's made of broken glass.

This is one of the most common spring presentations in the UK, and it tends to prompt a lot of anxiety. Some of it warranted. Most of it manageable.

Here's what's actually happening.

WHAT MONTHS OF WET GROUND DOES TO A HOOF

Horn — the structural material of the hoof capsule — is a keratin composite whose mechanical properties are directly tied to moisture content. But the hoof wall is largely impermeable. It regulates its own hydration internally, via blood supply to the underlying dermis. Environmental wetness doesn't change wall moisture content the way it's commonly assumed.

The sole is different. The sole can absorb moisture from the environment. That affects sensitivity and bruising risk directly. And after months of wet ground, that matters.

THE TRANSITION PROBLEM

The problem isn't prolonged wetness. It's the transition.

Repeated cycling between wet and dry states creates mechanical stress — water molecules breaking and reforming bonds within the horn matrix. When the ground hardens rapidly, that cycling intensifies at exactly the point when the foot is least prepared for it.

Classic research by Bertram and Gosline (1987) measured the stiffness of hoof wall keratin across different hydration states. Young's modulus — the measure of material stiffness — increased from 410 MPa at full hydration to nearly 14.6 GPa when completely dried. That's an enormous range. The hoof is designed to operate somewhere in the middle, with maximum fracture toughness occurring at an intermediate hydration level — roughly 75% relative humidity, which is within the normal in-vivo range for healthy hoof wall.

Stable conditions, even persistently wet ones, are less mechanically damaging than constant fluctuation. A foot that's been cycling through wet and dry all winter is not in that optimal middle range.

WHAT'S ACTUALLY HURTING

The solar corium — the vascular, nerve-dense tissue that sits just beneath the sole and produces sole horn — is protected by the horn layer above it. That corium must always be well-protected, covered by adequate sole thickness to keep it safe from ground contact and concussion.

The sole, having absorbed environmental moisture through the wet months, may be softer and more vulnerable than usual. The wall above it is a different story — wall integrity isn't the issue. It's what's underneath. What the rapid transition does is intensify the cycling stress on a foot that's been in unstable moisture conditions for months. The solar corium — already less protected than ideal — now faces harder ground.

Injury to the sensitive tissue beneath the sole can cause bleeding between the sole and the pedal bone — forming a bruise or haematoma that causes pain and lameness. In harder cases, that bruise becomes an abscess when bacteria find their way into the damaged tissue. The pressure of building pus inside a rigid capsule is what causes the acute, sometimes severe lameness owners describe.

FOOTY VS LAME — NOT THE SAME THING

This distinction matters and it's worth making clearly.

A horse that's footy is shortening its stride, picking its way carefully, choosing soft ground where it exists. It's responding to surface information. The foot contains mechanoreceptors — sensory structures including Pacinian corpuscles, found in the digital cushion, heel bulbs, and around the frog — that respond to pressure and provide critical sensory information during ground contact. On suddenly hard, unyielding ground, that sensory input changes dramatically. The horse responds accordingly.

That's different from lameness. Lameness involves pain — nociceptive signalling from damaged tissue. A bruise, an abscess, an inflammatory process. The horse isn't just reading the ground differently. It's protecting a structure that hurts.

The two can look similar from a distance. Both produce shortened stride and reluctance. But footy tends to be bilateral, consistent across all four feet, and resolves when the horse moves onto softer ground. Lameness tends to be localised, persistent regardless of surface, and accompanied by other clinical signs — heat, pulse, swelling.

A horse that's footy on hard ground and sound on soft is telling you something different from a horse that's lame everywhere.

THE LAMINITIS RULE-OUT

This matters because spring footiness has a differential diagnosis that cannot be ignored: laminitis.

Laminitis is inflammation of the laminae — the interlocking tissue that suspends the pedal bone (coffin bone, or P3) within the hoof capsule. In early or subclinical cases, it can look identical to general footy behaviour. Spring grass is a significant trigger for horses with underlying insulin dysregulation — a condition where the normal insulin response to dietary sugars and starches becomes dysregulated, driving lamellar damage through mechanisms distinct from simple carbohydrate overload. Horses with equine metabolic syndrome or PPID are the primary at-risk population.

If your horse is hesitant on hard surfaces and you notice an obvious digital pulse or heat in the feet, contact your vet. Increased digital pulse — felt at the back of the fetlock — is a flag that warrants proper assessment, not watchful waiting.

The presence of digital pulse changes the conversation entirely. Transition footiness from wet-to-hard ground typically doesn't come with a bounding pulse. If it does, rule out laminitis first.

WHAT TO LOOK FOR

Check all four feet. Pick them out and press on the sole with your thumbs — a normal sole should feel hard and unyielding. If it feels soft, that's relevant information

Feel for heat and digital pulse. Assess the walk, including tight turns on firm ground.

Hoof boots provide immediate comfort and are worth having in the kit for exactly this time of year.

WHAT RESOLVES IT — AND WHAT DOESN'T

Uncomplicated bruising generally resolves within two weeks. Abscesses resolve once drained, though the timeline varies.

What doesn't resolve: the underlying vulnerability if the foot is chronically cycling through wet and dry, or has structural issues that leave the solar corium inadequately protected year on year. That's a longer conversation about management, trim approach, and sole depth — but it starts with getting through the immediate discomfort first.

The horse isn't being dramatic. The ground changed faster than the foot could.

12/04/2026

Although I do not blame any of my wonderful customers it does illuminate nicely how mechanisms react to outside influences which you might all find interesting

Why the World Is So Difficult for Farriers

One of the most frustrating realities of being a farrier is that we are constantly judged for outcomes we do not fully control.

A perfect example happened to us recently. We were asked to shoe a team of horses coming in from winter turnout after six months without trimming. Unsurprisingly, they arrived with horrendous feet. The capsules were long, flat, broken back, collapsed, and structurally weak. Exactly what you would expect after prolonged neglect combined with months of standing in wet winter conditions.

People often fail to understand what prolonged hydration does to the hoof. Hoof horn is a biological composite material with viscoelastic properties, and as hydration increases, the material becomes softer, more deformable, and less mechanically resistant. The hoof literally loses stiffness as its material properties change.  When horses spend prolonged periods stood in wet fields and mud through winter, the horn becomes weaker, the capsule deforms more readily under load, and the structures begin to collapse under forces they would otherwise tolerate. Add six months of unchecked growth to that and you create the exact ski slope, flat-footed, broken-back feet we were presented with.

Now here is where the public misunderstanding begins.

Clients seem to think a farrier should be able to simply rasp all of that away in one visit and magically produce perfect feet. But biology and biomechanics do not work like that. If a hoof has migrated and distorted over six months, aggressively forcing it back into ideal proportions in one trim risks overloading live structures, removing too much support, breaching sole depth, destabilising the capsule, and ultimately making the horse lame.

So what does the good farrier do?

He does the difficult thing, not the dramatic thing.

He gradually resets the foot toward improvement whilst preserving soundness, maintaining capsule integrity, and respecting tissue tolerance. He accepts that proper correction often takes multiple cycles because hoof balance is not simply cosmetic. It is a matter of managing forces, moments, and tissue loading over time. The hoof is a mechanical structure governed by load history, not just by what was rasped that day. As discussed in my book, morphology reflects sustained loading and impulse over time, not merely immediate appearance. 

That is exactly what we did.

We set those feet up to improve over the following cycle. We did the hard work. We established the foundation for recovery while protecting the horses.

But because the feet did not instantly look cosmetically “perfect,” the players and management complained that they still looked long. We were removed from the team.

Another farrier came in the next cycle, inherited the feet after we had already done the difficult corrective groundwork, and naturally the feet looked significantly better after his round.

So now we look incompetent, and he looks like the hero.

That is the reality of farriery.

We are often judged not on the difficulty of the case presented to us, but purely on superficial appearance at that moment in time, with absolutely no appreciation for the biological and mechanical process behind what has been done.

And this problem extends far beyond simple neglect.

Farriers are blamed constantly for movement asymmetries and landing patterns that are not hoof-created in the first place. Modern science has shown repeatedly that landing is influenced heavily by swing phase mechanics, neuromuscular control, proprioception, and the overall physiological and postural state of the horse. Landing pattern alone does not predict loading pattern, nor does it automatically define hoof imbalance.  Yet many still watch a horse land slightly unevenly and immediately blame the farrier, despite the fact that the asymmetry may originate from higher limb pathology, compensatory posture, neurological patterning, or whole-body dysfunction.

Likewise, medio-lateral hoof distortion is not simply a matter of “the farrier trimmed it uneven.” Hoof morphology reflects cumulative impulse and loading history over time. If a horse carries itself asymmetrically, if it has chronic compensatory posture, if it moves with a higher limb restriction, if it is crooked through the thoracic sling, pelvis, or spine, then that altered loading will reshape the hoof regardless of trimming. The hoof is part of a bidirectional system in which posture affects hoof loading just as hoof mechanics affect posture. 

Even broader still, domestic management itself changes horses. Stabling, feeding positions, rider asymmetry, poor saddle fit, limited turnout, emotional stress, inappropriate workload, and artificial living conditions all alter posture and autonomic tone, which in turn alter movement, loading, and ultimately hoof morphology. Yet somehow the farrier remains the one blamed when the feet reflect those influences.

Then summer arrives, the ground dries, the feet harden naturally, hydration reduces, horn stiffness improves, and the capsules often tighten and become more upright almost by themselves. Suddenly the feet “look better.” And who gets credited? Usually whichever farrier happens to be standing underneath the horse at that moment, regardless of whether the improvement was driven by seasonal change and environmental conditions.

This profession desperately needs a more mature understanding of hoof science.

The farrier is not a magician. We are not working on isolated blocks of wood. We are working on living biological structures shaped by physics, physiology, posture, environment, and management over time. We operate within the constraints of the horse in front of us, and the horse in front of us is a product of far more than just trimming.

The industry must come to understand that the farrier is constrained by the horse’s world. We cannot out-trim neglect. We cannot shoe away poor management. We cannot rasp off higher limb pathology. We cannot override six months of damage in one visit without consequence.

So perhaps before blaming the farrier, people need to ask harder questions.

How has this horse been managed?
How long has it been left?
What environment has it lived in?
What postural or pathological issues are influencing loading?
What role is the rest of the horse playing in the foot we are seeing?

Until the industry starts asking those questions, farriers will continue to be used as scapegoats for problems they did not create.

And frankly, enough is enough.

To My Fellow Farriers

If you do your best at every visit, keep up with all the latest research and take pride in your work but…

If you have ever lost work because someone else got the easy follow-up cycle after your corrective set-up…
If you have ever been blamed for pathology you did not create…
If you have ever had owners ignore every management factor but refuse your recommendations while still blaming you for the outcome…

Know this

You are not alone.

This profession is difficult not just because the work is hard alone,
but because so much of what determines success lies outside our control.

The industry must mature to a point where it understands the farrier is only one variable within a much larger system.

Until then, farriers will continue being blamed for the consequences of everyone else’s ignorance.

We at TED will continue to try our best to educate the industry, both the farrier and the rest of the team.

03/04/2026

*** SYCAMORE SAPLINGS ARE OUT - DON’T RISK YOUR HORSE’S LIFE ***

Atypical myopathy is one of the most horrific ways for a horse to d*e. The saplings are now out. Just because horses have grazed the same field for years and been fine, absolutely doesn’t mean they will be this year.

These photos were from a case I saw in 2023. The pony had grazed the paddocks with sycamore saplings for less than an hour. He did survive, but wouldn’t have done had he been left much longer.

Please, please do not risk grazing fields with sycamore saplings. I do honestly understand how hard it is for many of you with fields that have sycamore trees. The trees need cutting down; there is no other easy way of managing them. And if you are planning on buying land, never buy any if there are sycamore trees on it, or close to it (unless you can chop them straight down).

21/03/2026

👀🐴 Letting a Horse Look is not “Letting Them Get Away With It” 🐴👀

😇 When a horse stops and looks at something, many people are quick to say “don’t let them get away with that.”

🐎 But a horse pausing to look is not a challenge to your authority. It is not cheeky behaviour. It is simply a horse trying to understand something in their environment.

👀 Horses survive by noticing things. By questioning things. By taking a moment to assess whether something might be dangerous. When we allow them a second to look, we are not rewarding bad behaviour… we are allowing them to process.

🤍 It isn’t “letting them get away with it.” It is listening. It is acknowledging that the horse beneath us has thoughts, instincts and genuine concerns.

🌿 The interesting thing is that horses who are allowed to look often move on far more willingly. They feel heard. They feel safer. And a horse who feels safe rarely needs to argue.

✨ Good horsemanship is not about shutting a horse down the moment they question something. It is about guiding them through it.

🫶🏻 Sometimes the most confident horses are not the ones who were never allowed to look…

😇 They are the ones who were given the time to realise there was nothing to fear.

🥰 Love always, Hx

31/01/2026

I’m going to toss out some numbers. If numbers make you go cross-eyed, give it a chance and stay with me- it’s important.

Latest research shows that non-fasted insulin results (with access to a horse’s normal forage) that were above 21.6uIU/mL resulted in a 22% incidence of laminitis within 4 years of the bloodwork results.

That’s a lot of numbers. What that means is that almost a quarter of horses with an insulin result above 21.6 could become laminitic.

What’s even more concerning is a non-fasted insulin result of 45.2 or higher had a 69% laminitis incidence rate within 4 years.

Considering that many labs say “normal” range for insulin is under 40, and considering that many times this bloodwork is taken fasted (instead of the updated recommendation for non-fasted), many owners may see their horse’s insulin result in the 20s or 30s and think their horse is fine, or think their horse isn’t metabolic, when actually their horse may be walking a fine line of laminae issues.

I’ll tell you about a mare here. This picture is of her feet when she was really quite rotated/foundered, shortly before coming to my farm.

This mare came to my property in October 2025 after struggling with founder and rotation for a few years. The owner had been very diligent, getting tested hay, feeding a quality mineral supplement (one I feed to my rehabs here too), and building a grass-free dry lot. She had a consistent trim every few weeks, and diligent boot use.

Her insulin still would run above range, and the owner even used an SGLT2 inhibitor to help. This DID help with her pain, but even while on it she had an insulin result come back at 140 last year.

The vet recommended more movement to see if this would help with comfort and hoof health as well as body condition, and shortly after that, the mare moved here to the track.

Right before getting here, her insulin wasn’t out of control- it was around 36, while still on an SGLT2 inhibitor to help keep it in check. She was comfortable in boots, but quite cresty necked with fat pads.

After one month living on the track, her insulin went down to 24. She was comfortable at this point, and the vet recommended to stop the medication and check in again in another month or two to see how she was doing. With that, in November, she came off the SGLT2 inhibitor, and we watched and waited.

As she continued to move around the track, eating our tested hay in slow feed hay nets and minerals balanced to the hay test, she slowly lost some of her extra weight. Her feet started growing healthier, with a tighter wall connection making its way down.

Last week, her bloodwork was checked again.

With no medication, the same trim as before, and “simply” increased movement and a balanced diet, her latest insulin result came back at 7.7uIU/mL.

7.7 ! Yes, the decimal is correct. Her insulin was under 10. We have seen that with other cases here too.

Does this mean she is not metabolic?
No. It means right now, with diet and exercise, her metabolic status is controlled.

Did we change the trim? No.
Did we drastically change the diet? No.

The key for this horse was movement. The track system increased the movement, and movement lowered her insulin.

Just like with people, often the best thing we can do for our horses is good movement and a healthy balanced diet.

31/01/2026

Hoof Abscesses: Before vs After Rupture

There is ongoing discussion online about how hoof abscesses should be managed, particularly after they have already drained. I’d like to clarify this, because the treatment goals change once an abscess has ruptured.

Before an abscess ruptures

When an abscess is still sealed within the hoof capsule, the goals are: to
Relieve pressure
Encourage drainage
Reduce pain

After an abscess has ruptured

Once an abscess has blown (for example via the white line, sole, frog, or collateral groove), the situation is different:

Pressure has already been relieved
The primary source of pain is gone
The abscess is no longer “trapped”

At this stage, the goals become:

Keeping the drainage tract clean

Preventing environmental contamination

Allowing the tract to heal from the inside out

Avoiding prolonged maceration of the frog and sulci

This is where ongoing wet poulticing is often overused

There is a widespread belief that pus must be “drawn out” for many days after rupture. Many comments related to this after my last post about an abscess in a mare at my livery.

This idea applies to sealed abscesses, not ones that have blown and I did some research and found :

Once drainage has occurred-

There is no longer pressure driving pus deeper

Continued soaking does not remove more infection

Prolonged wet conditions can delay healing and soften healthy tissue

I shared that I packed the sulci with hoof clay.

Soft, non-occlusive materials (including clays or charcoal-based products) used lightly after rupture are not inherently “blocking” drainage. They can:

Absorb moisture

Bind debris

Reduce contamination of an open tract

This is very different from sealing an abscess closed.

In summary I learned-

• Before rupture → encourage drainage
• After rupture → protect, keep clean, allow healing

29/01/2026

The cannon bone, in the horses leg, thought to be called that because if it breaks it sounds like cannon fire!

Edited to clarify that’s the name Cannon bone comes from the shape of a cannon

The photo is showing one of the ends of the Cannon bone. It’s the end that forms the fetlock joint

 The end of the bone forms a hinge joint and that is exactly as the word describes. It’s a hinge just like the hinge on a door door opening and closing. It does not allow any movement medial or lateral or allow any twisting.

There are ligaments attaching bone to bone which helps to resist any twisting or other movement in that joint but look at the actual shape of the end of that bone. Can you see that ridge of bone in the centre that is perfectly designed to fit like a lock and key with the next bone, which is the long pastern bone or P1.

The long pastern bone has a dip in the centre which allows that ridge of the cannon bone to sit perfectly just like a jigsaw.

This photo was taken as part of my dissection of the fetlock joint that I did last weekend. There are more details about this on my Patreon page.