Sham's Story

I did not go looking for information on barefoot horses.

My horse, an Arabian named Sham, was fine. But he was 22 and would have to retire sometime. I was looking for a second horse. I wanted a Friesian, but that was financially out of the question, so I started surfing ads for half Friesians. My assistant found Equinextion’s horses for me, and then said “look at all this cool stuff about bare feet.”

Sham had been shod for 13 years straight, ever since I bought him as a never-shod ten year old and was told by more experienced horse people that he would need shoes. I had been into horses for almost thirty years and this was what I had learned. I didn’t question it … until I started reading Lisa’s website. A little voice in the back of my brain insisted “This makes sense.”

But all this ‘natural’ stuff. The word was getting overused. People were taking things too far. Come on, really, my horse was fine in shoes. He moved like a dancer – on his toes. He always had. I clearly remember asking why he hit the ground toe first. “It’s just his individual way of going. No problem.”

I continued the search for another horse, a foal or a yearling – Sham would be going for years yet and I didn’t have time to ride two horses. Still, there was that tiny voice, like an annoying itch you can’t reach. It drew me back to Equinextion and I started reading other barefoot websites as well. I was proud that I had already done a lot to improve Sham’s life. After nine years in a boarding stable, he was now in my backyard with the 24/7 turnout every barefoot site advocated. Of course, I was forced into this because Sham could barely breathe where he had been. Now his allergies no longer needed any drugs and he wasn’t nearly as ‘hot’ and spooky. I was doing great for him, wasn’t I?

Why didn’t the little voice agree?

I decided to call Lisa. What could it hurt? I’d ask how much her horses cost. Then talk about Sham and she’d tell me how good I’d been to him. She’d understand that there was no room in my schedule for months of transitioning to bare feet. I HAD to ride regularly or my arthritis would seize me solid. And his feet weren’t that bad. He had never been lame. I read good concavity was important – there was lots of distance from the bottom of Sham’s shoes to his soles.

I made the call. How much were the horses? Oh. We talked about Sham. I said I liked her idea of putting horses in the woods and I could do that too. She was polite and suggested I shouldn’t if Sham was still shod.

Spring came. I rode more. Something wasn’t right. Sham’s medium trot just wasn’t there. And one day he refused to trot on the road. To say I was concerned would be a serious understatement but there was no sign of injury, heat, lameness. “He’s getting old,” my friends said.

“Yes.”

“Arthritis.”

“Yes.”

I shopped for another horse in earnest now. Something older. I still wanted a Friesian cross but could not imagine arranging to ship one from Alberta or North Carolina or such.

When it was time to have Sham’s shoes reset, that little voice prodded me to test the water. I asked the farrier, “Can I let Sham go barefoot when he retires?”

“NO. He’ll wear his heels to nothing. He had no heels on him when you got him.”

Now I can clearly remember when I bought Sham. His papers said he was fifteen hands and after his first shoeing he stood barely over fourteen-two. He had an inch and a half too much toe AND heel when I got him!