Winter Horse Care: Then vs Now — From Straw-Stuffed Sheets to Michelin-Man Rugging

Winter horse care has evolved from “make do and hope for the best” to a full-blown fashion show with enough kit to rival a North Face outlet.

Back Then: Clipping was modest and reflected the workload. A humble neck clip if Dobbin was in light work, maybe a trace clip if he was very fancy. After exercise, he’d be swaddled in an anti-sweat rug —with a good armful of straw stuffed underneath to dry him off. It smelled like a brewery floor, slipped off after about 30 minutes, and probably had mice living in the folds. If he was lucky, he’d get a New Zealand canvas rug, for turnout, the equine equivalent of a wax jacket, complete with rusting buckles and the faint aroma of mould.

Now: Fast-forward to 2025, and even the once-a-week happy hacker has their horse fully clipped in November “because he sweats when trotting.” Enter the rug wardrobe:

• Rain sheet for drizzle.

• 100g liner for “nippy mornings.”

• 200g rug with neck cover for when it “looks like rain across the valley.”

• 350g rug with belly flap for “icy vibes.”

• 450g thermonuclear rug with integrated hood, leg wraps, and optional WiFi for “frost warning.”

• Wicking antisweat rug (with branded embroidery, naturally) for drying off after a 20-minute plod.

Field boots are slapped on “just in case.” Tail guards, fly masks (yes, there could be midges in winter), and reflective hi-viz snoods are optional extras. Some horses now waddle into the field looking like marshmallows with legs.

Yard Voices

Saz, the Battle-Hardened Yard Owner: “Back in my day, you finished riding, threw on an anti-sweat rug, stuffed some straw underneath, and Bob’s your uncle. Horse dried off, straw fell out, birds had a good day. Now it takes half an hour just to layer up these prima donnas. I’ve seen smaller wardrobes for sale at IKEA.”

Debbie Masters, Pony Club Mum Extraordinaire: “My daughter’s pony has six rugs—per season. Lightweight, mediumweight, heavyweight, stable, show, and one just for Christmas. Honestly, it’s an investment. He looks fabulous on Instagram, and that’s what counts.”

So, have we improved? Sure, horses are warm, dry, and look like equine influencers. But there’s something faintly ridiculous about the fact that a Shetland who barely breaks into a trot is now wearing more technical layers than an Everest climber. I couldn't write an article about rugs whilst missing out the Anti-Rug Cult, parading across social media with the self-righteousness of a thousand snow-covered ponies. Step aside any sign of logic or empathy. According to their sacred decree, no horse ever needs a rug. Ever. Ever. Ever. Your silky Warmblood, bred in climate-controlled barns and spoiled rotten since birth? Apparently ready for the Arctic. Shivering, shaking, and lost eyelashes are mere theatrics in their morality play. Rugging is “unnatural,” cruelty incarnate, a betrayal of the equine spirit itself—because nothing screams enlightenment like lecturing about survival while sipping a latte and scrolling through pictures of snow-covered fields. Meanwhile, reality waits patiently: some horses have evolved for winter, some haven’t, and the rest just hope you’re not too busy posting hashtags to notice their teeth chattering. Winter is coming, dear social media warriors, and no amount of virtue signalling will keep your designer breeds warm.

Perhaps common sense has gone the way of the canvas rug: thrown on the muck heap, smelling of mildew, but secretly missed.