Toes to Tails

12/20/2025

THIS!

This is incredibly well written, shares so much truth, is humorous, and best of all - it made me feel understood and not alone on this roller-coaster ride.

I am so grateful to all of my clients, but want to shout an extra "THANK YOU" to the clients (and colleagues) who have experienced (and helped me with) these changes over the years.

❤️

THE PROFESSIONAL GROWTH ARC OF A HOOF CARE PRACTITIONER

(A survival guide disguised as a career.)

Every hoof care professional starts the same way:

Bright-eyed.
Hydrated.
Fully bendable.
Convinced — with touching optimism — that skill is what makes you good at this job.

It isn’t.
Survival is.

Welcome to your growth arc.
You won’t enjoy it. You won’t recognise yourself by the end.
But you will, eventually, stop panicking in public.

STAGE 1: THE NAÏVE FOAL

You trim your first horses.
They lift their feet.
They stand politely.
Your mentor says you’ve got “a good feel.”

You drive home thinking:

“I’m a natural.”
“My hands just know.”
“Maybe this won’t be as hard as everyone says.”

This is charming.
This is also the point at which the universe quietly sharpens a stick.

You are a freshly risen soufflé.
Gravity has noticed.

STAGE 2: THE FIRST CRUSHING OF THE SOUL

You meet your first Problem Horse™.

Hooves like experimental sculptures.
Angles chosen by committee.
A frog that looks like a baked good abandoned in a lay-by.

You approach with enthusiasm.
The horse offers you the wrong foot.
The owner says, “Oh he never does this.”

By minute four you realise, with absolute clarity:

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

You go home and lie flat on the nearest soft surface, staring at the ceiling while replaying every decision that led you here.

Congratulations.
You’re officially in.

STAGE 3: THE RELIGIOUS BUYING PHASE

You respond the only way a modern professional knows how:

You buy things.

Books.
Webinars.
Courses taught by people who haven’t touched a hoof since Blackberrys ruled the earth.
Rasps with names like ThunderShred Titanium Fury.
Boots that cost more than domestic appliances.
A stool. Then a better stool. Then a stool with opinions.

You highlight textbooks until the margins are louder than the content.

Then the next horse arrives and behaves as if none of this ever happened.

This is called professional development.
Apparently.

STAGE 4: THE METHOD WARS

(An ongoing conflict with no winners and unlimited comments)

You go online looking for clarity.

You find:

– spiritual trimmers consulting planetary alignment
– classical purists quoting cavalry manuals like scripture
– biomechanical engineers analysing bars with software that could land a plane
– people insisting wild horses on volcanic plains are the blueprint for your native cob standing in February clay

You try to learn.
You try to listen.
You try not to scream into a hedge.

Eventually you begin every sentence with “Well… it depends,”
and end every day wondering how this became your personality.

STAGE 5: THE 3AM DISSOLUTION OF ALL CONFIDENCE

You wake in the night thinking:

“Was that heel meant to be there?”
“Did I take too much?”
“Did I take too little?”
“Is that distortion or just… Tuesday?”
“Could I retrain in something calm, like bomb disposal?”

The horse you were smug about yesterday is now short.
The one you were sure you’d ruined powers off like nothing ever happened.

Your confidence now has the structural integrity of wet cardboard.

This, you’re told, is learning.

STAGE 6: THE SHIFT

(The part nobody puts on Instagram)

One day — quietly, without ceremony — something settles.

You pick up a hoof and your brain doesn’t start yelling.
You adjust without narrating your fear.
You stop arguing with strangers online because you realise none of them are paying your excess.

You start saying deeply unsettling adult things like:
“Let’s take this one step at a time.”

Your ego slips out the back door.
Your judgement improves.
Your work becomes less dramatic and more… effective.

This is progress.
It doesn’t photograph well.

STAGE 7: THE QUIETLY FORMIDABLE PROFESSIONAL

This is where you end up.

Your tools look ancient but work beautifully.
Your joints creak like old floorboards.
You can read a horse’s intentions before it commits to them.

You immediately identify:

– the performer
– the stoic
– the storyteller
– the saboteur
– and the pony who has taken this personally

You no longer fear frogs, thrush, bold opinions, or owners clutching printouts.

You work with the calm of someone who has already survived every possible catastrophe — often twice, sometimes barefoot, usually in the rain.

Clients call you a miracle worker.

You know the truth:

You’re not gifted.
You’re not special.
You’re just someone who stayed long enough to learn what not to do.

THE BIT THEY DON’T PUT IN THE BROCHURE

This is professional growth.

Not a straight line.
Not a calling.
Not a brand.

Just years of showing up, making mistakes, adjusting, and slowly replacing panic with pattern recognition.

It’s muddy.
It’s tiring.
It occasionally feels personal.

But it’s real.

And real — inconveniently, unfashionably real —
is where actual competence lives.

11/22/2025

Agreed! The only time I prefer a wet leg is if it was previously covered in 💩 and we have towels. A few of my clients are dealing with FWS and I completely understand the frustration, but don't like smelling like it all day. 😊

11/12/2025

I ran across this post from a mentor and feel the need to share it as I have had similar thoughts in my head but failed to say anything. I am fortunate to have very few clients who don't provide me with a clean, dry, place to work, however I am bothered more by what a horse is living in, and what it does to their hooves.

09/02/2025

This is a beautiful, eloquently written, piece on a very tough subject. I have a few friends and clients with dates already booked to say goodbye to their beloved pets this Fall. More times than I care to count, I have done the same. I believe that it is a great honor and one of the best gifts we can give, to release our loved ones from their pain. I am also of the belief that it's better to say goodbye a week too early on a calm, planned day full of love and treats, than a day too late in a rushed, traumatic way.

Sending so much peace and love to those of you who have been brave enough to make this decision, and to those who are still struggling to make the call.🙏❤️🙌

Talking to a horse owner about euthanasia is like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands. Nature is against you. They avoid the consideration of suffering, the discussion of quality of life, the logistics of what that decision would look like.

We don't want to even think of the end of life, especially in this culture. We are not well prepared to consider life and death. Some of us have already had to face death in one way or another - and it is devastating to our soul.
For many of us, the death of our animal signifies something like a failure....somehow it means that we stopped trying and we gave up.

And *how* could you ask someone to give up on their beloved companion?

However understandable that perspective is (and as an animal owner I feel this way too!), I would argue this is not the best way to look at it for our horses sake.

Horses do not die naturally. Out of all the horses my clients have lost (usually 10-12/year from my schedule) over the past 10 years, only two passed without being euthanized.

If you were to ask how many of them needlessly suffered for weeks, months, years before finally being put to rest? Well.... that is a hard question to answer depending on who you ask, but more than one.

Horses are fragile in some of their systems. Their digestive system can rebel. They must be weight bearing to survive so something like a broken leg that could be healed in other species can be catastrophic for them. They are prey animals, something that even anxious fearful humans have a hard time comprehending as we are predators at the tippy top of the food chain. They are biologically engineered for survival which means they will do their best to hide their pain. In this sense, they are not fragile at all. They will persist despite great cost.

How can we best serve our horse as they age?
What does aging with dignity look like for them?
How would we like their death to be?
What will their death look and feel like?
How can we miss them and honor them?

These are the questions that we can ask ourselves.

Hold space for death in your life. It will not kill you. We see the ending, the transition of something all our lives. The seasons change, trees fall, relationships wane, our feelings, ideas, and needs ebb and flow.

Do you think your horse is afraid to die?
Or is it us who are afraid to "play God," to have that conversation with a friend or vet, to face the inevitable end that we all will have one day?
Is it you who is not ready?

Choosing to help your horse in the end, because they will be truly dependent on you by then, is an honor. It is an offering of respect, an acknowledgement of your role as their friend and guardian and advocate in both life and death.

✨️
To my clients who have been brave enough to face death, I'm here with you.
✨️

I have 15 and 14 year old kitties and an 11 year old dog who is graying around her muzzle and face. I love them deeply and it feels like a lightning strike to my gut to imagine life without them here next to me.

I am not writing this from an academic perspective. The facts usually don't matter anyway in these times until we can get ahold of our own feelings. Or until we are forced to deal in numbers, dollars, and days.

My hope is that as a collective who loves animals, we can pursue understanding life and death so that we're ready for when we are called upon to make tough decisions for the animals in our lives.

❤️‍🩹 - Corrie

Edited to add: I didn't not anticipate this post having such a big reach! Clearly this is a topic that we all need to talk about. I hope being a part of this conversation has relieved some of your guilt or stress over losing animals in the past or preparing for the future. See the comments for part 2 and 3.

08/25/2025

As some of you know, back at the end of April my phone just up and died. After a lot of panic and jumping through hoops, I got a new (low end & slow) one, and got *most* (not all of my pics) of my data back. Thank you to those that sent me missing hoof pics!😊

Flash forward to yesterday, and I forgot my phone was in my pocket and went swimming with it. It's toast, so I went and got a new one today (a nice one this time so I must be more careful). While it seems I've got *most* of my data back...so far, no pictures, some missing messages and some missing contacts.😭

If you've tried to reach me and not heard back, this is probably why. It's hard to know what appointments and contacts are missing, so please, reach out if you haven't heard from me as you may no longer be in my contacts. Sorry.🙁

08/19/2025

Oh, how I love working with the babies! "Poppy's First Pedicure."💜

08/16/2025

Hey y'all! 👋

I've already received a couple of concerned texts, so I wanted to send out a reminder about what you might see due to all the rain we just got after such a long dry spell being. I've seen a lot of super hard retained soles that might start dropping out, as well as dry leathery frogs that may peel. Sometimes these will slough off in chunks, and other times all in one piece - not to worry! Also, I forget that some might not be used to seeing the periople (like cuticle) ring around the top of the wall, just below the coronet band, swell and turn white - again, no worries.

Enjoy this much needed moisture!🌻

06/23/2025

So true, and so sad. It's supposed to be about what makes the horse feel better, NOT which trim method was used. Some days, I can't even read through the threads I used to learn from because the venom is so unhealthy for my soul.

The Hoof Care Wars: When Helping Horses Became a Battlefield

There was a time when the hoof care world was split simply: shoes or no shoes.
But times have changed.

Today’s conflicts are far more… evolved.

Now we have schools vs schools.
Or more accurately — one or two very specific schools versus…
well, everyone else.

Veterinary surgeons?
“Brainwashed by outdated models.”

Farriers?
“Still stuck in the dark ages.”

Independent trimmers?
“Unqualified. Dangerous. Actively harming horses.”

Yes — welcome to the world where if you’re not trained by their method, using their terminology, applying their trim, and chanting their jargon — you’re a threat to equine welfare.
An obstacle. A danger.
A hoof butcher.

And it’s getting poisonous.

What do these wars actually look like?

Online groups policed like secret societies, where dissent is flagged faster than a loose shoe.

Case studies weaponised to prove “everyone else is incompetent.”

Vets, farriers, physios and other professionals shut down or publicly shamed for not subscribing to “The Method.”

Emotionally charged accusations:
“That trim is abuse.”
“You’re setting that horse up to fail.”
“You’re killing horses.”

Not... “I disagree,”
but:
“You’re endangering lives.”

Meanwhile, in the real world...

Owners are caught in the middle, more confused than ever.

Horses are left without consistent, collaborative care.

Practitioners feel under siege, walking on eggshells rather than sharing knowledge.

Thoughtful discussion dies a slow death, buried under dogma.

And those who try to build bridges?
Mocked, blocked, or labelled "fence-sitters."

The horse does not care which school you trained with.

He cares whether he can land heel-first.
Whether he can move freely.
Whether his posture is improving.
Whether his pain is being addressed.

Horses don’t need ideology.
They need clarity.
Competence.
Care.

So let’s drop the slogans and the sanctimony.
Let’s stop declaring war on anyone who doesn’t echo our training manual.

No single school owns hoof care.
No method is universally right for every horse, in every context.
And if your training can’t stand up to scrutiny, open discussion, or collaboration with other professionals —
then it’s not a method.
It’s a religion.

And horses deserve better than that.

04/19/2025

This is an amazing illustration and explanation of what can happen inside the hoof due to laminitis. (It makes my stomach hurt to think about the pain associated with it, and will hopefully convince some to get more serious about putting on those grazing muzzles.)

A beautiful and rare macro shot of a Sagittal section (through the middle) of a horses foot with rapid onset laminitis.

This is at the coronary groove/ coronary band area. The wall grows from cells in the coronary groove. It’s usually a distance “U” shape but in this case it’s dragged out to more a straight line.

Why?

Because the laminar bond suspending the coffin bone has been destroyed and the weight of the horse has drives the bone down due to gravitational force.

The bond is strong to support a galloping horse when healthy. But when it looses its connection it can fail catastrophically.

Note the wall growth at the coronary groove- it’s kinked.

Why?

Because it’s been pulled down with the plunging coffin bone. The bone takes all the soft tissue associated with it as it drops.

The wall has almost folded itself up on the inner wall side can you see it? Again it’s being dragged down with the bone due to gravity.

Look at the periople. It’s usually a nice sliver of stretchy soft material sealing hood wall to skin. It’s usually a plump line. Notice its shape like a triangle

Why….. you know the drill.

Gravity always wins.
Body weight - is subjected to gravity.

Heavier horses will have more risk of distal descent than lighter horses.
Minis are quite immune to distal descent- they may get a few mm drop but uncommon to see the coffin bones literally comming through the sole.

How to come back from this?
It depends on how many laminar attachments are left. That’s it

The more unscathed attachments the better the prognosis.

No one knows the outcome.
There are too many variables
It’s only you and your horse that needs to answer those questions.

Peace ❤️

03/30/2025

Wow, this is spot on and so important! I missed this when Corrie (she is an amazing writer as well as hoof care provider) posted it 3 years ago, but I am sharing now as I hope everyone reads it and understands.

Once, a client remarked how good their horse was standing for me because she had bit and kicked the last farrier. I was on the third hoof.

Once, a client told me their horse had "gone through a few farriers." Another farrier told me later that horse kicked their tools halfway down the barn aisle.

Once, I finished trimming and the owner said "wow, I didn't want to tell you this until we were done, but he kicks."

Once, I had a horse kick out while I was working on their front feet. Owner was upset I wouldn't trim the hinds. I told them to go pick up a hind and show me how they do it. They got kicked in the process.

Once, or twice, or ten times, I asked a potential client upfront if their horse stood well for the farrier, scheduled a first appointment, and then found out that is a lie.

These are the stories that flash through my head when people complain about farrier prices or difficulty in finding farriers.

Our job entails a lot of work - administrative work, continuing education, hoofcare, communication, our own inner work to remain present and soft in the presence of horses....

I place my safety in the hands of other people to a certain degree every time someone holds a horse for me. The horse(s) and owner are a package deal. If you don't have your farrier's safety and best interest at heart, you should understand what really goes into this career.

It is never, ever worth it to work in conditions that give you a bad feeling. I have made mistakes and nearly gotten seriously injured a few times when I ignored my gut instinct and kept on going.

If your horse is struggling to stand safely for your hoofcare provider, ask them for suggestions. Have the vet out. Hire a trainer. Handle their feet regularly yourself. Offer pain meds or sedation for appts if needed.

Farriers need to work smarter, not harder, for our work to be sustainable and we can only do that if the client is interested in being a part of the team.

~Corrie