Suzie is the kindest, sassiest pony with a heart of gold and more personality than most people. We are so lucky to have her in our lives.

However, she does have one vice, and it comes from a place of anxiety – having her feet trimmed.

When we first got Suzie, our farrier had to work incredibly hard to trim her feet. We often had to sedate her, which was a challenge in itself, and because of her EMS-related laminitis she needs her feet trimming every four weeks. If we leave it any longer, even by just a week, her feet take much longer to trim and she is far more comfortable when they're kept short.

So, what exactly does she do, I hear you ask…

Well, our chilled-out lead rein pony transforms into a demon acrobat, climbing the walls and seemingly turning herself inside out. She's incredibly quick with both her front and back feet and has perfected the rather terrifying trick of standing up on the hoof stand, which sends chills down my spine every single time.

Things became so difficult that we couldn't even pick her feet up to clean them out. She would cow kick, snatch her feet away and rear up onto her back legs. Not exactly ideal when you have a three-year-old wandering around!

The one positive that came from her two weeks of box rest in 2025 was that I was able to spend time with her, just the two of us, rebuilding her trust. Little by little, we reached the point where I could pick out her feet again.

It wasn't naughtiness—it was fear.

I truly believe that somewhere in her past she was told off or forced through the discomfort, when in reality she was simply trying to tell people that something didn't feel right.

Looking back now, I honestly think that difficult period strengthened our bond more than anything else. She learnt that I wasn't going to hurt her, and I learnt to listen to what she was trying to tell me. Don't get me wrong, she's still a little monkey, but she doesn't have a nasty bone in her body.

Fast forward to 2026 and you would never believe her feet had ever been such a challenge. Picking them out is no longer a problem, although I still don't let many other people do them—especially not my daughter. I respect Suzie's anxiety, and I think she knows that. We have an understanding.

I also have to give credit to our current farrier, who has been absolutely fantastic with her. He has taken the time to earn her trust, works with her rather than against her, and understands when she needs a moment to process what's happening. Between us, we've reached the point where she no longer needs sedation for her trims.

She'll probably never be the pony who stands there half asleep while the farrier works, and that's okay. Every trim is still a work in progress, but seeing how far she's come reminds me just how much patience, kindness and trust can achieve.

Sometimes the biggest victories aren't winning rosettes—they're simply watching an anxious little pony quietly lift her foot because she knows she's safe.