World Horse Day: Honoring Humanity's Oldest And Most Loyal Companion
UN News visited the farm to mark the first-ever World Horse Day, established this year by the UN General Assembly. By creating the Day, Member States sent a clear message: animals deserve to be treated with care and respect.
A faithful companion
From ancient battlefields to modern therapeutic programs, horses have been by humanity's side for millennia—but in today's high-tech world, few remember that legacy.
'Horses didn't just help us survive,' says Marisa Striano. 'They built America with us. They plowed the land, they carried people.'
Many cultures revere horses not only for their strength, but for their spiritual presence. In Mongolia—the country that introduced the resolution for World Horse Day—horses are sacred, central to national identity. Children there often learn to ride before they can walk, and folk songs celebrate the animals' loyalty and nobility.
Fading from view
Once humanity's primary mode of transportation, horses have largely been replaced by machines. Today, they are mostly found in sport, tourism, therapy, and entertainment. But this shift doesn't mean they've lost their place in human life. 'Horses haven't lost their value – we've just stopped seeing it,' Striano says.
A second chance
Sick, aging, or retired racing horses are often shipped to slaughterhouses in Canada or Mexico.
'Imagine working 15 years, giving your all, and then being thrown away just because you got old,' Striano says. 'Those are the horses we take in. We give them more time. A second chance.'
The farm is home to 19 rescued horses, including retired police horses, former breeding stallions, and even old Amish workhorses – each with their own story.
'One of them is Gus – he's 107 in human years,' Striano says. 'He used to be a therapy horse, but near the end he started throwing kids off. Now he's retired and in love with his blind companion, Ramona. They're inseparable. That's the horse's soul.'
Emotional congruency
Horses aren't just helpers – they're deeply emotional, intuitive, and highly social beings. With near-360-degree vision and a heightened sensitivity to their surroundings, horses are naturally attuned to emotional states, Striano explains. This makes them ideal partners in therapeutic settings.
At Spirit's Promise, horses work with children with disabilities, survivors of abuse, and older adults with dementia. A horse can calm an anxious teenager or bring joy to someone who thought they had forgotten how to feel it.
They're often called 'mirrors of emotion': horses instantly pick up on a person's true inner state—even if the person isn't aware of it themselves.
'Horses are 100 percent emotion. They don't lie, and they can't stand lies in others,' says Ms. Striano. 'If you say you're fine but inside you're falling apart, they'll sense it—and walk away. But if you're honest—even if you're sad or angry – they'll stay with you.'
This sensitivity makes them remarkable companions for those experiencing grief, addiction, or trauma. One moment stands out vividly for her.
A young man came to the farm early in his recovery from drug addiction. Dressed in a hoodie with sleeves pulled low, he seemed constantly on guard. At the time, the farm had a horse named Heartbreaker. Though she has since passed, Striano recalls what happened next with awe.
'She walked right up to him and just… accepted him,' Ms. Striano says. 'She looked at him like, 'I see you're broken. I am too. But that's not the end. You can still love.''
The two entered the paddock together. Heartbreaker lay down on the ground, and the man sat beside her, resting his face on her body. For half an hour, they just sat there in silence.
'It was complete peace,' Ms. Striano remembers. 'Trust without words. Presence without conditions.' Then the young man's mother approached. Heartbreaker, who had been calm and gentle, suddenly grew agitated — snorting, tossing her head, trying to break free.
'She acted like she wanted to protect him from his mother,' she says. 'I rushed to lead Heartbreaker away. And the young man turned to me and whispered, 'She hides behind her religion, but she hasn't forgiven me. She'll never say it – but the horse saw it.''
For Ms. Striano, this confirmed something she's seen again and again: horses don't respond to appearances, only truth. 'They don't see the mask. They see the soul. And that's their power. They see us for who we really are – and still choose to be with us.'
Between Care and Exploitation
Debates around horse exploitation are ongoing: from carriage horses to racing and show industries, where is the line between tradition and cruelty?
'I hate racing,' Ms. Striano says. 'Maybe it had purpose once. Now it's just about money. Horses get pumped with drugs, locked up, used up. Then slaughtered.'
At the same time, she acknowledges that ethical questions aren't always clear-cut. 'I don't believe in sacrificing one soul for another,' she says when asked about the horses pulling carriages for tourists in New York's Central Park. 'Those horses feed entire families. We have to find a balance. But we must never forget: horses are not tools. They are living beings.'
To Forgive and Love Again
For Ms. Striano and the horses she cares for, the farm is a place where trust between species is rebuilt. She sees her work as a privilege—a daily chance to be with creatures that know how to forgive and love again, no matter what they've been through.
'When I walk into the paddock and they come up to me—I thank them. Every time,' she says. 'Because a horse is pure. They're not with you because you broke them—they're with you because they chose to be. And that means everything.'
A Day to Say 'Thank You'
According to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), there are around 60.8 million horses in the world. The United States has 2.41 million horses and ponies across 63,000 farms, while the European Union is home to about 7 million horses and 800,000 jobs in equestrian breeding, sport, and tourism. In Mongolia there are 3.4 million horses – nearly one for every person.
Beyond sport and industry, horses, donkeys, and mules are vital to rural life. According to research by the World Organisation for Animal Health and FAO, 112 million working equids support the livelihoods of some 600 million people in low- and middle-income countries, helping transport water, food, and much more.
On July 11, the first World Horse Day, the UN invites the world to say 'thank you' to humanity's loyal companion – for their labor, trust, and patience. For staying by our side – and helping us heal. 'A horse is a gift,' Ms. Striano says. 'And we have no right to lose it.'
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World Horse Day: Honoring Humanity's Oldest And Most Loyal Companion
11 July 2025 UN News visited the farm to mark the first-ever World Horse Day, established this year by the UN General Assembly. By creating the Day, Member States sent a clear message: animals deserve to be treated with care and respect. A faithful companion From ancient battlefields to modern therapeutic programs, horses have been by humanity's side for millennia—but in today's high-tech world, few remember that legacy. 'Horses didn't just help us survive,' says Marisa Striano. 'They built America with us. They plowed the land, they carried people.' Many cultures revere horses not only for their strength, but for their spiritual presence. In Mongolia—the country that introduced the resolution for World Horse Day—horses are sacred, central to national identity. Children there often learn to ride before they can walk, and folk songs celebrate the animals' loyalty and nobility. Fading from view Once humanity's primary mode of transportation, horses have largely been replaced by machines. Today, they are mostly found in sport, tourism, therapy, and entertainment. But this shift doesn't mean they've lost their place in human life. 'Horses haven't lost their value – we've just stopped seeing it,' Striano says. A second chance Sick, aging, or retired racing horses are often shipped to slaughterhouses in Canada or Mexico. 'Imagine working 15 years, giving your all, and then being thrown away just because you got old,' Striano says. 'Those are the horses we take in. We give them more time. A second chance.' The farm is home to 19 rescued horses, including retired police horses, former breeding stallions, and even old Amish workhorses – each with their own story. 'One of them is Gus – he's 107 in human years,' Striano says. 'He used to be a therapy horse, but near the end he started throwing kids off. Now he's retired and in love with his blind companion, Ramona. They're inseparable. That's the horse's soul.' Emotional congruency Horses aren't just helpers – they're deeply emotional, intuitive, and highly social beings. With near-360-degree vision and a heightened sensitivity to their surroundings, horses are naturally attuned to emotional states, Striano explains. This makes them ideal partners in therapeutic settings. At Spirit's Promise, horses work with children with disabilities, survivors of abuse, and older adults with dementia. A horse can calm an anxious teenager or bring joy to someone who thought they had forgotten how to feel it. They're often called 'mirrors of emotion': horses instantly pick up on a person's true inner state—even if the person isn't aware of it themselves. 'Horses are 100 percent emotion. They don't lie, and they can't stand lies in others,' says Ms. Striano. 'If you say you're fine but inside you're falling apart, they'll sense it—and walk away. But if you're honest—even if you're sad or angry – they'll stay with you.' This sensitivity makes them remarkable companions for those experiencing grief, addiction, or trauma. One moment stands out vividly for her. A young man came to the farm early in his recovery from drug addiction. Dressed in a hoodie with sleeves pulled low, he seemed constantly on guard. At the time, the farm had a horse named Heartbreaker. Though she has since passed, Striano recalls what happened next with awe. 'She walked right up to him and just… accepted him,' Ms. Striano says. 'She looked at him like, 'I see you're broken. I am too. But that's not the end. You can still love.'' The two entered the paddock together. Heartbreaker lay down on the ground, and the man sat beside her, resting his face on her body. For half an hour, they just sat there in silence. 'It was complete peace,' Ms. Striano remembers. 'Trust without words. Presence without conditions.' Then the young man's mother approached. Heartbreaker, who had been calm and gentle, suddenly grew agitated — snorting, tossing her head, trying to break free. 'She acted like she wanted to protect him from his mother,' she says. 'I rushed to lead Heartbreaker away. And the young man turned to me and whispered, 'She hides behind her religion, but she hasn't forgiven me. She'll never say it – but the horse saw it.'' For Ms. Striano, this confirmed something she's seen again and again: horses don't respond to appearances, only truth. 'They don't see the mask. They see the soul. And that's their power. They see us for who we really are – and still choose to be with us.' Between Care and Exploitation Debates around horse exploitation are ongoing: from carriage horses to racing and show industries, where is the line between tradition and cruelty? 'I hate racing,' Ms. Striano says. 'Maybe it had purpose once. Now it's just about money. Horses get pumped with drugs, locked up, used up. Then slaughtered.' At the same time, she acknowledges that ethical questions aren't always clear-cut. 'I don't believe in sacrificing one soul for another,' she says when asked about the horses pulling carriages for tourists in New York's Central Park. 'Those horses feed entire families. We have to find a balance. But we must never forget: horses are not tools. They are living beings.' To Forgive and Love Again For Ms. Striano and the horses she cares for, the farm is a place where trust between species is rebuilt. She sees her work as a privilege—a daily chance to be with creatures that know how to forgive and love again, no matter what they've been through. 'When I walk into the paddock and they come up to me—I thank them. Every time,' she says. 'Because a horse is pure. They're not with you because you broke them—they're with you because they chose to be. And that means everything.' A Day to Say 'Thank You' According to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), there are around 60.8 million horses in the world. The United States has 2.41 million horses and ponies across 63,000 farms, while the European Union is home to about 7 million horses and 800,000 jobs in equestrian breeding, sport, and tourism. In Mongolia there are 3.4 million horses – nearly one for every person. Beyond sport and industry, horses, donkeys, and mules are vital to rural life. According to research by the World Organisation for Animal Health and FAO, 112 million working equids support the livelihoods of some 600 million people in low- and middle-income countries, helping transport water, food, and much more. On July 11, the first World Horse Day, the UN invites the world to say 'thank you' to humanity's loyal companion – for their labor, trust, and patience. For staying by our side – and helping us heal. 'A horse is a gift,' Ms. Striano says. 'And we have no right to lose it.'
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Ready for the apocalypse
Actor Nick Frost is ready for the end of days, he tells Tim Lewis. Nick Frost isn't messing around. "Could I have two double espressos," he says, when we meet on the dot of 10am. "So, like, four espressos." We are in a cafe, the Pheasantry, in Bushy Park, southwest London. The park, across the way from Hampton Court Palace, has been a hunting ground for kings, the spot where General Dwight Eisenhower plotted the D-Day landings from a tent and, latterly, the birthplace of Parkrun. But Frost, the 53-year-old British actor, sees other potential for this bucolic parkland now abundant with deer and protected anthills. "When me and Simon" — that's Pegg, actor and frequent Frost collaborator — "used to live together, we always had places we'd go should the zombie apocalypse actually happen", he says, necking the first of the espressos. "We had lots of rules and plans, and the Pheasantry falls into that because there's a fence all the way around. A really good fence. And you could easily cultivate the land that's here and live in this structure." With stern-faced suspicion, Frost scans the light-filled room, mainly filled with tired-looking new mums and retirees nursing a midweek cappuccino. "So this is a great zombie fallback." There are maaaaany possible follow-up questions, but I go with: where else have you identified as a decent apocalypse refuge? "Another place is Twickenham stadium because, again, it's completely fenced in," he says, the second double espresso bolted. "And you could turn the pitch — not that I've over-thought this — into quarters: one would be for grazing livestock; I'd have an orchard in another; wheat or corn, etc, in the third; then I'd leave one fallow for each season. Then just rotate. And I'd live in, like, Vodafone's executive box." Overthinking is one of Frost's defining traits, and makes him a highly entertaining, unpredictable person to spend an hour or so with. It is also very on-brand for him to spend his downtime obsessing over what would happen if the human race were faced with imminent, violent extinction. Frost has one of the great, accidental origin stories in acting. For most of his 20s he worked in Chiquito's, a Mexican chain on London's North Circular, first as a waiter and later as a line cook. A random meeting with Pegg, whose girlfriend worked in the restaurant, led first to a flat-share and then the cult TV series Spaced , written by Pegg and Jessica Hynes, and then Shaun of the Dead , a comedy about friends who have to problem-solve their way out of — yep — a zombie apocalypse, both of which Frost, laconically, starred in. "Even when I was 28, 29, when we were just starting to do Spaced , I had no plan at all," recalls Frost. "Like, I just did a thing. Another thing turned up, and I did that. I went back to waitering after Spaced." Frost's involvement, with Pegg and the director Edgar Wright, in the Cornetto trilogy — Shaun of the Dead , Hot Fuzz and The World's End — is enough to guarantee him life membership in the British film pantheon. But he's clearly a grafter: alongside his prolific work in movies and TV, he's written a pair of screenplays and a couple of books. The first, Truth, Half Truths and Little White Lies , was a memoir, telling his chaotic life story until he landed Spaced ; the second, A Slice of Fried Gold , was nominally a cookbook, interspersed with haphazard reflections from his life and career, but much more unhinged and poignant than that sounds. Frost also makes and sells paintings. "People think, because you made Shaun of the Dead , you're a billionaire," he says. "The money you get paid for a film is ... it's not forever. I work because a) I like it, but b) I have to, like everyone." Every three months or so, Frost will receive a royalty cheque from his acting work. He makes a great ceremony of gathering the family — his partner Hayley, their son and daughter, aged 6 and 4, and his teenage son from a previous relationship — for the reveal. "Everyone crowds around to see me opening it," he says. "And I always pretend: 'We've done it! We've done it!' And it's £35." Still, playing the long game seems to be paying off. Frost recently landed two of the starriest roles of his career: first up, he is Gobber the Belch, the wise-cracking blacksmith, in the live-action remake of How To Train Your Dragon , the Cressida Cowell series that became an acclaimed animated trilogy. Then — even bigger — he is about to start shooting HBO's TV adaptation of J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, with each of the seven books luxuriating in its own eight-episode season. Frost was recently unveiled as Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper originally played in the films by Robbie Coltrane. The news still seems to be sinking in. "Both projects are in genres that I have loved my whole life, in terms of fantasy and wizards and witchcraft," he says. "Especially Harry Potter. It's like ... I'm f...... Hagrid!" We'll come back to all that, but first there's the tumultuous past few years to process — what Frost calls "the big bang" of his life. The cafe has been descended on by a throng of runners and dog-walkers, so we decide to stretch our legs in the garden. It's an idyllic morning: rows of goslings waddle in front of us. But his survival instincts never leave high alert. "See, you're fenced in, so you're safe," he says, surveying the Pheasantry's lush lawns, "lots of rabbits as well". Frost, who today wears a velour Sergio Tacchini top, blue cords and Asics running shoes, looks great, and that's part of the story. "Six years ago I stopped taking any kind of drink or mind-bending substance," he says. That went OK, but he started to find that he was swapping those dependencies for over-indulging in food, and his weight crept up to 35 stone. "Food had been my first addiction when I was 10," Frost says. This was the year his 18-year-old sister died of an asthma attack. "And I realised that it's fine to stop all that sh.. [drink and drugs]. But then going in the car and parking down by the river when it was nighttime and eating a tier of a wedding cake, that's going to f...... kill you, as well." Frost accepted he needed a more drastic overhaul. "Just a realisation that I would die," he says, matter-of-factly. "And a realisation that I had very young children, and this is how I am, and they're going to be left without a dad. It was like, 'What the f... are you doing, you nutter?'." Some of the changes are physical — Frost had his knee replaced last year and now regularly cycles loops of Bushy Park — and others are mental. When he was 47, about the time he was giving up drink and drugs, he was diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, PTSD, dyslexia and anxiety disorders. That knowledge has been helpful to Frost and those close to him for explaining some of his more esoteric behaviours: say, rewatching old episodes of chef Rick Stein's TV shows. "I read a thing about manifesting," Frost says, referring to the time he was waiting to hear about Harry Potter. "And I thought, 'Let's write the word Hagrid down as many times I can'. And I wrote it down 5000 times. But rereading it back, my dyslexia took over at some point, and I didn't realise that for 2000 of them, I'd been writing 'Hadridge', I was spelling it completely wrong. So I'm still waiting to get the call to say, 'Nick, you're Hadridge, you've got it'."' The Hagrid announcement in April was, in some ways, bittersweet for Frost. He had to disable comments on his triumphant Instagram post after criticism came from trans-rights supporters that he would collaborate with Rowling, an executive producer on the new show and vocal gender-critical campaigner. "She's allowed her opinion and I'm allowed mine, they just don't align in any way, shape or form," Frost says. Does he worry that the debate might overshadow the series? "I don't know," he replies. "But maybe it shouldn't blow over? We shouldn't just hope it will go away, because it makes it easier. Maybe we should educate ourselves." We're back at Frost's car — surprisingly tidy for someone with young children — and he offers me a ride to the station. We talk about his tattoos, which he started getting compulsively after his father died, when Frost was 39. "The San Quentin sketchbook," he says, smiling, "the sh....., the better". One tattoo comes up repeatedly in our conversation: wobbly, ink-black writing on his forearm reads "Poor Old Me", a reminder to Frost to count his blessings, of which, he acknowledges, there are a multitude right now. As the car pulls into the station, Frost says, "I hate the word 'legacy', but there's always a part of me that wants to be remembered when I die. That's why I want to be buried, so I've got a little headstone somewhere. I write in the cookbook that the only thing I've got of my mum's was a f...... spoon. That's it. And I think, 'I'd want to be more than a spoon'." — The Observer
