When Textbook Isn’t Right: What Lady Dyanaformer Taught Me About Hoof Angles and Individual Balance
Kyle Rothfus of Horse Husband Stables joins us with a deep-dive into Lady Dyanaformer’s hoof evolution—from barefoot yearling to racehorse to broodmare—and why textbook balance isn’t always the right answer.
I've shared about evaluation for education a lot lately—and the importance of using examples from our own experience—so here's a bit of my perspective.
It's probably going to be an unpopular opinion, and I’m sure someone will say I’m just defending horse racing or being naïve. But this is my lived experience, and I know it’s valid no matter what anyone else thinks.
Let me also say this up front: I know these single photos, with my rudimentary attempt at using Canva to draw axis lines, are not perfect. I know they represent one moment in time from one perspective. I know a still image doesn’t capture movement, hoof loading, posture, muscle development, turnout conditions, diet, trim cycle timing, or conformation changes as a horse matures.
And most importantly—I know I’m not a farrier or a veterinarian.
But I do surround myself with them. I ask questions. I listen. I pay attention.
And because of that, I feel confident sharing this example—not as a prescriptive model, but as an invitation to think critically about the assumptions we often make about Thoroughbred feet.
Every photo here was taken by me, of my own mare, Lady Dyanaformer. And while they aren’t all apples to apples, they tell a story worth discussing.
Just like we can make our own necks look longer or shorter depending on the angle of a selfie, a photo of a horse’s foot isn’t the full story. But it can spark the right questions. And those questions—when asked in real life, with your vet, your farrier, your trainer—can help us all do better by the horses we care for.
Because horse husbandry isn’t about matching diagrams.
It’s about understanding the full horse in front of you.
The collage I'm sharing shows Dyana’s front limb alignment and hoof-pastern axis at four key points in her life:
2 years old, before training (barefoot)
2.5 years old, during race training (in shoes for the first time)
4 years old, racing (two years into training and competition)
7 years old, now a broodmare (barefoot again, retired since 2022)
Here’s what’s interesting:
Her heels were most upright and her toes shortest while she was racing.
She actually went to the track with more of an underrun heel than she had when she retired from it. And yet, she was trimmed every 4 weeks since she was a month old. So this wasn’t neglect. It was just her body doing what it naturally does at that stage of growth and development.
After retiring, we pulled her shoes and gave her feet time to transition back to barefoot. No forced changes, no dramatic “fixes”—just regular trims, thoughtful movement, and patience.
Today, at 7, her hoof angles look more like they did at 2. But here’s the key difference: now, they match the rest of her body. Because over the years, we’ve realized Dyana moves best with a slightly longer toe and a lower heel than what you’d call textbook. That extra reach gives her the breakover timing and support she needs to stay balanced and sound.
Her shoulder is more upright. Her forearm is long. And she’s naturally built to move with a longer stride and a slightly delayed breakover—not the kind of mechanical snap you’d shoe for in a sprinting racehorse.
Farriery during her race career brought her angles into alignment with that job. And they looked great on paper. But even then, she required surgery twice to remove a chip from her front left ankle—once at 3, again at 4.
So it begs the question:
Were those textbook angles actually right for her?
What If Her Hooves Were Already Doing Their Job?
Dyana’s journey challenges the assumption that aligning a hoof to match an external ideal automatically improves soundness.
What if her long toe and low heel weren’t an error—but an adaptation?
What if forcing her into idealized alignment shifted the internal stresses to a point her joints couldn’t handle?
Farriery during race training improved her hoof appearance, yes—but long-term function? That’s more complicated.
“Correct” doesn’t always mean “better.” It must be appropriate—for that horse, at that time, doing that job.
And to answer that question—whether those textbook angles truly served Dyana—we have to stop looking at the hoof in isolation and start evaluating the whole horse.
Where X-Rays Fit In
While conformation, movement, and external hoof structure provide valuable clues, radiographs offer the only true view of internal alignment and joint spacing. In Dyana’s case, X-rays helped confirm where internal load was being placed and revealed early signs of joint stress that weren’t visible from the outside. Whenever significant hoof angle adjustments are being considered—or when a horse isn’t responding to changes the way we expect—radiographs are an essential part of evaluating the whole picture.
What I Saw When I Looked Up the Horse
Dyana has a more upright shoulder and a longer forearm relative to her cannon. This combination creates a naturally steeper limb column and a reduced range of motion through the shoulder joint. It also means her forelimbs are predisposed to absorbing more vertical concussive force.
For a horse with this build, a slightly longer toe and lower heel can help:
Extend breakover to give her time to stabilize before lift-off
Reduce peak impact force on landing
Absorb shock through gradual limb deceleration rather than direct axial load
Trying to upright her heel artificially may have increased the concussion absorbed at her fetlock and coffin joint—precisely where her bone chip developed.
Her neck is short and ties in relatively low at the shoulder. This creates a forward weight bias and a predisposition toward loading the forehand, particularly during high-speed work or while carrying a rider.
In horses with this kind of front-end construction, a low heel can serve an important biomechanical purpose. It increases the ground contact surface and offers slight delay in peak loading—essentially, buying time for the limb to dissipate force.
When we moved her heel back and lifted her pastern into a textbook alignment, we likely removed this natural cushioning, asking her joints to bear more of the force than they were built for.
She has a well-sprung barrel and an average-length back. This is a strong structure overall, but one that creates close coupling between front and hind limb mechanics. Sudden changes to hoof angles—especially if made without corresponding topline conditioning—can produce compensatory strain in the lumbar spine or the base of the neck.
When her hooves were more “open” and her stance slightly camped out, she moved with more fluidity and less tension across the topline.
In contrast, when we brought her angles into textbook range, she carried herself more upright—but also began showing signs of subtle tension in the lumbar region.
That’s not surprising. Her body had adapted to a very specific form of weight distribution, and sudden correction may have disrupted that balance.
Back to Barefoot—Back to Balanced
Today, Dyana is seven years old and barefoot again. She’s been out of training since mid-2022 and has had two foals. Her hoof shape has softened—her heels have lowered slightly, her toes have lengthened, and her pastern axis has returned to something closer to what we saw before race training.
She doesn’t look textbook anymore. But she is sound. Comfortable. Grounded.
She’s not compensating. She’s not fighting her posture. She’s simply moving well—in her own body’s alignment.
This Wasn’t Rehab. It Was Transition.
Too often, people assume that all Thoroughbreds coming off the track need hoof “rehab.” But most don’t need correction—they need transition.
The demands of racing are different from those of retirement, broodmare life, or sport horse careers. Hooves must be allowed to shift in response to the new functional context—but those changes need to be gradual and intentional.
We wouldn’t send a climber from rigid boots into thin sneakers and expect them to perform the next day. Yet we often change a horse’s angles dramatically overnight.
That’s not rehab. It’s a recipe for new compensation patterns.
Understanding the Breed, Not Blaming the Job
Thoroughbreds are built differently. They often have:
Narrower feet
Thinner soles
Slower growth rates
Less robust hoof wall density
This isn’t a problem—it’s part of what makes them efficient, athletic, and fast. Just like they grow less hair and have thinner skin, it makes sense that they grow less foot.
Can some Thoroughbreds transition to thicker, more upright feet over time with the right environment and diet? Yes.
Do they need to to be sound? No.
What they need is individualized support—not assumptions based on how their feet “should” look.
Nutrition: The Foundation Underneath the Farrier
Dyana’s diet remained consistent throughout training, retirement, and both foalings. She had access to high-quality forage, balanced amino acids, trace minerals (particularly zinc and copper), and biotin.
In many OTTBs, when hooves deteriorate after retirement, it’s not because the racetrack damaged them—it’s because nutritional density drops or trace elements are no longer balanced for keratin production.
If the feed bin falls short, no trim can compensate.
So What Should We Be Asking?
Instead of asking, “Does this hoof look ideal?”
We should ask, “Is this hoof serving this horse’s body, movement, and purpose?”
That means:
Watching the horse move
Evaluating posture over time
Using radiographs where needed
Collaborating with your farrier and vet
Listening to the horse
Because a hoof is never the whole story.
It’s a part of the horse—and it must be trimmed with the horse in mind.
What Dyana Taught Me
Dyana didn’t thrive in racing because her feet looked textbook.
Her feet looked textbook because her farrier trimmed her for that job, at that time, with great precision.
When that job changed, her feet changed again.
And rather than fighting that, we supported her transition.
Her “worst” angles might have been what kept her sound the longest.
Her “best” angles may have overloaded her joint.
And today, she lives in her own balance—and teaches me something new every time I watch her move.
The best farriers don’t trim hooves to make them pretty.
They trim hooves to support the whole horse.
Lady Dyanaformer reminds me why that matters—and why it’s our job to listen.
