H&H’s Bethany Stone talks frankly about the lessons she learnt and why she believes you should think twice before putting your mare in foal
Talking horses is my job, but it can also be a painful point. Why? Because I don’t ride anymore, and I regret breeding my horse.
I’m physically able and mentally eager to ride horses. After all, horse riding first captivated me and brought me into the equestrian world as a child.
Since then, I’ve learned that loving and owning horses means just 10% of your time with them is spent riding, and do I relish the 90% that is, essentially, hanging out with and caring for a horse.
But I’d be lying if I said riding wasn’t important to me.
Sadly, my horse is the reason I can’t afford the cost or time to share one to ride, let alone buy a horse or rehome a ridden equine. As his breeder, it’s also my fault he’s here and therefore I’m responsible for him.
‘Intermittent lameness transformed into rearing’
When asked if I have a horse, I pull up a photo of my dark bay part-bred warmblood: 16hh, 11 years old, homebred, rather handsome.
“How lovely!” people reply. “And what do you do with him?” And I have to say: “Nothing, I retired him at six. He’s got a catalogue of medical issues, and he’s been retired for nearly half his life.”
I don’t usually say I regret breeding my horse. Instead I’ll talk about how we had a great start together – hacking, training, beach riding, going to our first shows.
Then, very subtle and intermittent lameness signs transformed into napping, bucking and rearing.
Several trips to equine hospital, joint injections and a year of unsuccessful rehab later, I had a horse who had completely soured.
So, I decided to put us both out of our misery and retire him to the field.
Pip is a lovely person and we have a bond again. He’s a living link to his fantastic dam, who I owned for 18 years until she died.
People often ask me why I don’t rehome or loan out Pip as a companion.
As his owner and the reason he exists, it’s a risk I could never take. Partly because he’s frequently tricky to handle, partly because I really love him, but mostly because he requires specific support thanks to his health conditions.
He’s been through so much, so if he ever fell into the wrong hands I would never forgive myself.
‘Another horse is missing out’
It’s hard to imagine there’d be any harm in breeding just one or two foals. But the cumulative effect of many individuals can lead to thousands of extra foals on the ground.
World Horse Welfare has done much to highlight the impact with their “Need to breed?” campaign, highlighting the vast number of horses they, as one charity, take in each day.
In fact, there are fewer and fewer places available as centres close and more owners give up horses.
Small-scale and one-off breeders – like me – also contribute to the problem World Horse Welfare identified.
You might be thinking that’s a bit like pinning carbon responsibility on individuals when corporations chuck out tonnes of it – and I grant you, there are parallels.
But having a whole life in your hands feels like a much bigger contribution than declining plastic straws.
I also believe that sometimes the smallest voices can merge to make the biggest statements.
Breeding Pip meant triggering a chain of events that means another horse who might have enjoyed a loving home with me is now missing out.
My horse’s stable represents one less knowledgeable and capable home available for the many thousands of horses in the UK who are suffering needlessly due to overpopulation.
‘He was a guinea pig’
My expertise in horse management has increased tenfold since my family decided to put my mare in foal.
We used guidance from knowledgeable contacts, but looking back with the benefit of hindsight nearly 12 years later, I don’t agree with everything they advised us to do.
For example, Pip was born with a bent forelimb. The advice we interpreted was to wait and see and that our colt didn’t need to see a farrier for many months.
Having spent my career interviewing top vets, farriers and academics, my feelings on this have totally flipped. If I could go back, I’d be calling an excellent farrier immediately, sending photos and asking how soon they could come out to inspect my foal.
To this day, Pip overloads the inside of that leg – you can tell by his hoof conformation. I didn’t know better, but I’ll always worry that leaving the leg unaddressed has contributed to his issues.
This, for me, is one of the astonishing things about breeding horses. As naive as my parents and I were, there were absolutely zero barriers to prevent us breeding from my mare.
That naivety, however loving and well-intentioned, has without doubt contributed to my horse’s medical and behavioural issues.
Every horse person, from amateur to professional, makes mistakes. But breeding my horse also made him a guinea pig for our amateur have-a-go breeding efforts, and that isn’t fair.
I often think about how differently I would do things next time, from birth to backing, but I can say with certainty there won’t be a next time.
‘He has a great life’
It’s important to say that my sensitive, tricky horse has taught me to be a much more sympathetic owner.
I now use positive reinforcement training and am far more focused on the three F’s in my care than I ever was before.
He has a great life, and I’m committed to giving that to him – even if it means riding is out of the question.
If everything went as planned with Pip, if we were sailing around grassroots eventing tracks, enjoying long hacks and getting stuck into training, I accept that I might feel much more positive about small-scale breeding.
Encouraged, I might have bred more foals only to encounter issues down the line or having to sell, thereby losing security over my stocks’ future.
‘Something to be taken extremely seriously’
I’m aware I might sound callous or selfish, and if you’re reading this with a homebred or two in your paddock, I’m not trying to point the finger or make you feel guilty about the wonderful horses you love and care for fastidiously.
Like mine, many homebreds have an unconditionally loving home for life. A great many others aren’t so lucky.
I simply hope to give would-be one-time breeders a little perspective. I understand why you want to breed a foal; it’s probably for the same reasons I did.
However, it’s something to be taken extremely seriously. Be extremely critical, honest and accountable regarding how much you know.
Be responsible and highly informed for every single step, from choosing your stallion to weaning, and from backing to producing. And you should not rely on “wait and see”.
My honest opinion to amateur horse owners is: don’t breed. Your next horse is among hundreds of horses out there already who are perfect for you. The one you breed might not be in that herd.
● Are you an amateur rider who breeds or has plans to do so in the future? We’d love to hear your views at hhletters@futurenet.com, including your name, nearest town and county, for the chance to have your thoughts published in a future issue of Horse & Hound magazine
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You might also enjoy reading:
Do you need to breed? Stark warning to horse owners
Twice as many foals are produced by people who will only breed one to five foals than by people who
Breeding from older mares: is it a good idea and what are the best methods?
An ‘incredibly sad day’ as equine charity closes two centres and 33 jobs lost
Equine welfare charities reflect on the challenges of 2025 – as the number of owners giving up their horses increases
‘Heartbreaking to see him so afraid’ but foal dumped at six weeks old learns to trust thanks to positive reinforcement training
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