Brenda's Grooming Box Odyssey

By Brenda Bumble, Equine Grooming Box Archaeologist

I was told by my editor, “Go check out someone’s grooming box, Brenda. Just see what’s in there and report about it.” Easy, I thought. A brush, a comb, maybe some shampoo. You know, a box with some grooming stuff.

Before my assignment, feeling a surge of journalistic diligence, I’d even watched a few YouTube videos titled “What’s in my horse grooming box?” and “Cleaning my horse grooming box.” I was immediately struck by the sheer variety of brushes – each seemingly designed for a hyper-specific purpose – the intriguing array of equipment, and even the diverse prices, styles and sizes of the grooming boxes themselves.

I opened the first grooming box at a stable I was allowed to visit and looked as if Mary Poppins had become a horse girl and never looked back. It was less a box and more a time capsule of one rider’s emotional journey. There were brushes, sure—so many brushes—but also mysterious tools, old horse show numbers, an empty candy wrapper, a lot of horse hair, a lot of dust and something what might have been a petrified carrot.

I held up a rubbery thing with spikes. “This one’s for... exfoliating the horse’s aura?” I asked.

“No, that’s a curry comb,” someone explained. “You use it in circles to loosen dirt.”

Circles? This wasn’t yoga. But okay.

Then there was the dandy brush, the body brush, the face or cuddly brush (yes, horses apparently get facials), the hoof pick (a tiny metal tool used for horse pedicures), and something called a sweat scraper. I thought it was a salad tool. I was told it’s for removing sweat. Or water. Or doubt. I’m still unclear.

Besides all the brushes was also a bottle of purple goo labeled "Thrush Destroyer,” which sounds like either a superhero or a medieval plague cure. There were hair detanglers, conditioners, coat polishers, fly sprays, ointments, hoof oil and a stick of something called "bit butter," which I was absolutely not going to taste even though it smelled suspiciously like banana lip balm.

I asked a bit overwhelmed, while vaguely remembering a nature documentary where wild horses seemed perfectly content by rolling around in the mud and then getting hosed down by a good downpour from time to time: “Do you really use all of this equipment?” and the horse owner said, “Well… I use three to five things, but you never know.”

That’s when I realized: grooming boxes are less about grooming and more about being prepared. For what, I’m not sure. Possibly the (mud) apocalypse. Definitely a last-minute turnout class.

Brenda’s final verdict: The grooming box is like Narnia. You think it’s just brushes, and then suddenly you’re elbows-deep in mystical products, three versions of the same tool, and at least a handful of horse treats. I’m still not sure what half of it does, but I left with shiny hands, a new appreciation for mane detangler, and the feeling that somewhere in that box... lives a small, sentient creature named “Shedding Season.”