In 14 days. No fly sheet, no mask, no chemicals — because the flies were never coming from the manure. They're coming from four wet spots you walk past every morning.
You don't need anyone to describe her to you. You've been watching her since June.
You spray at seven. By lunch they're back on her and you're reaching for the bottle again.
She rubs the fence rail raw, and every year it comes back thinner than the last.
Six of them. Two hundred dollars a season, every season. Not one of them held.
You muck it religiously. The flies never cared. Now you know why.
There's a reason none of it worked.
A fly spray kills the fly that's on her right now. It does that well. What it can't do is anything about the next one.
And there's always a next one, because the ones biting her today were laid three weeks ago in material sitting thirty feet from where you're standing.
Then it evaporates and she's exactly where she started.
That's why the shelf filled up and the mane never came back.
You're not losing because you picked the wrong spray. You're losing on arithmetic — and nobody sells you the fix for arithmetic, because it doesn't come in a bottle.
Stable flies don't breed in fresh manure. They never have. They need wet, rotting plant matter — and there are exactly four places in your paddock where that sits.
You've been cleaning the wrong thing. Carefully. For years.
Four spots. Not one of them is the manure pile.
Eggs can't reach pupa without moisture. Take the water out of those four spots and the whole batch dies where it lies — and the next batch has nowhere to be laid.
Take the water out anywhere in those first twelve days and the larvae never reach pupa. You don't kill the flies. The batch never becomes flies.
Every homemade recipe on the internet flashes off in twenty minutes, because nothing in it holds the oils to her coat. Ours has the fixative, at the ratio the entomology literature actually measured, mixed in the order that keeps it from separating.
A few dollars a gallon. And by week three you're not mixing it as often, because there's less coming at her.
Here it is, in their words.
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The four spots, drawn on a paddock that looks like yours, plus how to find yours in a single ten-minute walk and exactly what to do with each one. Print it and put it on the tack room wall.
Base formula plus three variants, the fixative ratio, the mixing order that stops it separating, the 24-hour rest test, and the equine-safe oil table with dilutions, patch test and the popular oils to keep away from horses. Shopping list with cost per gallon.
What to do and when, adjusted for your temperature — because heat drops the cycle from 28 days to as few as 12 and moves every date on the page.
Parasitic wasps, traps, fans and physical barriers. What each one actually does, the order to add them in, and the two that are a waste of your money.
Printable tracking sheets. Ten minutes, once a week, one number. This is also what the guarantee runs on — so it's the one page you actually have to use.
Run the ten-minute count before you start, and again on day fourteen. If that number hasn't come down, write to us and you get your $27 back — and you keep every file. You have sixty days.
We can say that because the count isn't our opinion. It's yours.
By email, the second you pay. PDFs you can print for the tack room or keep on your phone.
Yes. Three of the four spots are inside your own stall and paddock, and the recipe is yours regardless of whose land it is. There's a page on how to raise the fourth with the barn owner without it becoming a thing.
Every oil is listed with its dilution and a patch test. The table also tells you which popular oils to keep away from horses — several well-known blends use them.
For the first two weeks, yes. That's exactly what the recipe is for. After that the whole point is that you stop needing it.
Because they overwinter as larvae in the same wet material. What you dry in September decides how many are waiting for you in May.
No. Twenty-seven dollars, once. Nothing renews.
Ten minutes to find them. Fourteen days to watch the count fall.
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