Pick up a hoof. That rubbery V down the middle, the bit that collects half a field and smells like regret by February, is the frog. Depending on which farrier you ask it is a shock absorber, a pump, a grip pad, or something you should leave well alone.
Here is the short version. Every time the hoof loads, the frog squashes and the digital cushion behind it spreads out. That spreading pushes blood back up the leg, which matters in an animal whose heart sits a very long way from its feet. Stand a horse in a stable for eighteen hours and none of it happens.
A frog that never touches the ground shrinks. That is most of the story, and the fix is movement, not another bottle of spray.
Which brings us to the part nobody enjoys. Thrush likes a wet, still foot. Contracted heels like a foot that never spreads. You can buy every purple spray in the shop and you will still be buying it next winter.
Try this on Saturday
Turn a hoof over in daylight and actually look at it, three days running. You are not diagnosing anything. You are learning what your horse’s normal looks like, so that in March you can tell the difference. Costs nothing.
Next Thursday: harrowing, and whether the field needs it or whether that is just a thing we all do in March.
WHERE I GOT THIS
Three papers on hoof biomechanics and digital cushion loading, one long argument with my farrier, and the AHT thrush guidance. Full list goes here.