How is everybody? Awfully nice weather we are having here in SW Montana. Kerry has pepper seedlings out on the porch in a mini greenhouse that we can move in and out of the house when temps drop below freezing. First time we could do that this early. As my legs get better I am slowly arranging the garage/workshop to build things again. Our bonsai trees are doing great out in the garage. I also have to trim our fruit trees before it gets too much later in the year. Make sure you hit that Like button and feel free to Share on any of your social media. Substack makes it easy to do by just hitting the buttons at the bottom of the page. I’ve got to go downstairs and lift some weights so I can look great in my super hero costume. Have a great week!
Would you call a plumber to install shelves in your office? How about an electrician to build a fence in the backyard? Of course not. You would call a professional to provide you with a service they are expert at, right?
Horseshoeing, however, is different. It starts with the name of our profession. We are often called blacksmiths and that is wrong because people who shoe horses for a living are called farriers. Blacksmiths forge useful or artistic things out of metal. Some farriers are also blacksmiths and vice versa because many of the skills are transferable. But there are far more farriers out there as opposed to blacksmiths because we humans have an affinity for horses that is almost universal and all those horses, along with donkeys, mules and burros, need their feet taken care of. I've heard it said that blacksmiths are just too smart to get under horses everyday. I cant argue with that.
I have found during my career, that we are also thought of as a sort of traveling handyman. While shoeing horses at a barn or ranch, I have been asked to fix tack, and install new handles on shovels, rakes, and carpenters’ hammers. I’ve sharpened knives, garden tools, and scissors. I’ve used a torch to heat up the bent frame of a wrecked carriage and straightened it. I’ve welded farm equipment, hung barn doors, assisted equine dentists (yes, they are a thing), fixed horseshoeing tools, and trued up anvils (I know, I know. I don’t know why I do things against my best interests). I’ve entertained Jack Russell Terriers by kicking a tennis ball for them on demand and babysat customer’s kids while mom was having a riding lesson. I even had a baby strapped in a car seat in my truck who was taking a nap, and was I instructed to give her a bottle if she woke up. I'm not kidding. If I’m honest, I feel kind of dumb even writing about this stuff.
There is one service I have done many times over the years that at first glance is so outside my job description that even babysitting seems like a normal job for a horseshoer. When a horse needs to be put down, I will accompany the vet and help. I won’t go into the specifics but there are some subtle techniques I needed to learn to make the process quiet and calm for the animal to ease their going. I was surprised the first time I saw this as an apprentice. It was explained to me that this was traditional. The farrier assists to spare the owner or grooms from making a bad day worse. I thought about that all the rest of the day and wondered if anybody ever thought that maybe the farrier really liked the horse too? I’ve certainly had my favorites over the years whose company I enjoyed. In the end, I learned to think of it as part of the job and I’m proud to say I became good at it. Vets would ask for me by name and schedule the procedure around me. I never charged for it. Usually people would offer me money for my time but the thought of taking money for helping to put a horse down made me feel weird because I wasn’t doing it for the humans. I was doing it for the horse.
That was a long way of saying that people think nothing of asking a farrier to to perform tasks that are not close to their normal skill set. There are, however, some calls that stand out from all the others.
On a sunny Saturday in the Spring, I got a call from a lady who sounded very upset. She needed shoes pulled off her daughter’s horse right away and was there any chance I could come out to their place immediately. I tried to get a little more information, but she just kept saying I need to see it for myself and could I please come right now. She had gotten my name from a friend of mine, so I felt a little obligated. I got the address, pulled on my boots, and told Kerry I was going to be gone for a while. She accused me of trying to avoid mowing the lawn and building her a raised bed in the garden, but of course that was plain silly. I was on a mercy mission. In fact, I was probably going to be a hero.
“Fine”, she said, “Hurry your heroism along and get back here to mow the lawn. If you don’t do it now we will end up haying it.” She never appreciates my heroic endeavors.
I arrived at this person’s house and double-checked the address. The neighborhood was very nice, and the lots did not look big enough to board horses but there was a brown two horse trailer parked across the street. I knew people will jam horses into a very small space if the zoning allows it. This had to be the right place. As I exited the truck, a beautiful, blonde girl of about 12 came out the front door with a huge smile on her face. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with amusement. It was strange because the woman, I assumed it was this girl’s mother, sounded so upset on the phone.
“Hi! Are you Mr. O’Connell?” she asked.
“Why yes I am.” I replied shaking her proffered hand. I get such a kick out of self-confident kids like this. Kids who ride horses tend to be like that because sitting on a 1000 lb. animal while galloping at 25 mph takes confidence!
“I’m Abby. He is out back this way.” She pointed to a crushed gravel track going around one side of the house. “Wait until you see this,” she giggled as led me around the house.
I figured I would leave all my stuff out front until I knew what I was getting into. We walked down a little hill to a patio and before me was a large in-ground swimming pool. There was a beautiful garden bed full of Spring flowers and a couple small apple trees that were in full bloom situated between the patio and the pool. The gravel track continued to the end of the property where a tiny horse shed and a watering trough stood. A stout wooden fence (painted white of course because all horse fences are) enclosed the shed and a dirt paddock for a horse to walk around in. Just outside the gate was a small stack of hay bales that was out of reach of any marauding horse. A man was standing at the edge of the pool with his hands on his hips, sporting a very red face. He gave me a disinterested wave. I noticed the gate to the horse corral was open but try as I might, I didn’t see a horse anywhere. I turned to my still giggling companion.
“ Abby my friend, I don’t get the joke.”
“Oh!” Abby said. “Come stand over here. The apple tree is in your way.”
I moved over to where she pointed, and I saw the horse. He was swimming in circles in the pool.
A very blonde, pretty lady appeared beside me and pointed at the pool with fluttering hands.
“Look!” was all she could say. “See?”
“I see.” I said, trying not to laugh. Abby’s giggling was becoming contagious. “What did you want me to do again?”
“Go talk to my husband!” She said and then ran back into the house. Abby rolled her eyes.
“Mom is being a little dramatic because daddy is mad.”
We walked down the steps that went through the middle of the bed and then around the pool to stand next to her father.
“Get back you son of a bitch!” He screamed.
This was unexpected. Seemed a little early in the day to be looking for a punch in the nose but some people just can’t help looking for one.
“Listen Mister you better back up some. You called me.” Abby could hardly contain herself at this point. I had pushed her behind me with one arm to keep this potential maniac away from her but she peeked around me and let out with an exasperated sigh, completely unintimidated.
“He is the blacksmith, Daddy!” she said. She looked up at me and said out of the corner of her mouth, “Ours wouldn’t come.”
Gee, I thought, I wonder why?
“No! I’m not talking to you. It’s him!” He said pointing at the horse. “He keeps trying to come out of the deep end and stand on the tile. He’ll bust it all up!”
The light dawned.
“Did you want me to go in the pool and pull his shoes off?” I asked in some disbelief.
“Well, duh!” I ignored the attitude for the moment because I wanted to see just how insane this guy was. I’m weird that way.
“Did you think I was going to do this underwater? The horse will have to stand on the bottom for me to get the shoes off.”
“Told you so!” Abby innocently said to her father batting her big blue eyes at him.
“Did you guys get it figured out yet?” A pretty, blonde girl of 16 or so was standing there on the other side of the pool with a camera. This house was full of pretty, blonde girls and women. “I wanted to get pictures for 4-H. Hi! I’m Tammy.”
“Hi Tammy. We are working on it.” I said.
The girl’s father sort of sagged.
“I apologize. I spent a lot of money on this pool. It’s the third time he has gotten in there, but he didn’t have shoes on the other times. We just led him up the steps in the shallow end. I don’t know what to do.”
Now I understood. This poor guy was a victim of girls and their horses. I had a long personal experience with that and sympathized. I noticed all three of them were staring expectantly at me. They wanted me to fix this, but I wasn’t sure how to do it. It was a tad more complicated than replacing a shovel handle. Taking a deep breath I talked as I thought.
Relax. I do it all the time. It’s what heroes do.
“OK. Abby, either you or your sister need to get a bathing suit on.”
“I’ll do it!” volunteered Abby as she ran for the house.
“I don’t suppose you have a pair of shorts like size 40 or 42 that would fit me.” I asked dad.
“Yeah, I do. Come up to the house.” Said a visibly relieved father. “Tammy, keep him back!”
Sure enough he had a pair of Bermuda shorts that fit. I went out to the truck and got my pull offs and met Abby at the pool. I noticed that not only had mom come out to watch the show but neighbors on both sides were leaning on the fence to observe. We should have charged admission.
“OK. Now, I am not guaranteeing he won’t break tiles. Understand? I’ve never done this before and I’m not sure there is a good way to do it.”
“I understand.” Said dad.
“Good. O.K. Ms. Abigail,” I said with a reassuring grin, “ you get a lead rope and we are going to lead him in to the shallow end but only as far as we need to. I want the water to hold him up as much as possible. Do you understand?”
“Sure, we studied this in school.” She turned to her father. “It’s called buoyancy Daddy.”
Dad couldn’t help himself. He beamed at his little girl. “Be careful Abby.”
“Oh, WE will be,” I said as we went down the steps and waded out. The gelding wanted out of the pool by now so catching him was easy.
“Watch your toes Abby,” I warned.
“I am.”
I was thrilled to find that whoever had shod this horse didn’t do a very good job. Popping the shoes off was simple. Each shoe that was set on the side of the pool was met with cheers from the crowd. I could hear Tammy’s camera clicking away. I had to admit this was almost fun and as an added bonus, the cold water made my knees feel good. Pulling done, Abby led the gelding to the stairs which thankfully were very wide. He just stepped on up and shook off next to dad who tried to swat the water droplets away with his hands which amused the crowd to no end. Abby turned him out in his corral and locked the gate behind her.
“That was easy!” She exclaimed and did a cartwheel. The crowd applauded and I had to laugh. The girl just cracked me up.
Dad was busy fishing out differing amounts of flotsam from his pool and paid no attention to his precocious daughter. I looked closely while in the pool and didn’t see a cracked tile anywhere, not even on the steps.
“I think we got away with it,” I said to him. “How did he get in there?”
“Hmmmm.” He grumbled.” Somebody left the gate open again. I think he just walked down the steps.”
“About that. Get rid of the dang gate and put in one of those zig-zag fence gates. No gate to close and the horse can’t get out. Use that for chores and keep your regular gate padlocked until you want to take the horse out.”
He never looked up from his pool skimming. “That’s a good idea. Thanks for coming out. My wife will pay you.” This guy was just a bundle of joy I thought. But of course it takes all kinds to make a world.
I got changed and found mom in the kitchen who had her checkbook out. I charged her for the trip and for a trim. Yeah I know it wasn’t enough but the whole thing was so funny it paid for itself. Abby was still in her bathing suit drinking a soda at the kitchen table.
“Oh, and Abby should get something for her trouble,” I said. Mom smiled and pulled out five dollars from her wallet, handing it to Abby. The girl reached out to take it but stopped when I added, “unless of course, she was the one who left the gate open.”
Mom looked away. Abby hid her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers shaking her head no.
“It wasn’t you, was it?” I asked her mom. She shook her head no and smiled.
“Tammy?”
“Nope!” Abby brightly said.
“No way.” I whispered conspiratorially, “It was him?”
Mom sighed.
“The one time he feeds the horse. The only time in five years, and he leaves the gate open. That’s why he was being such a jerk,” she sighed again. “Thank you for everything.”
Abby led me outside through the front door and to my truck where I sprayed my pull-offs with oil to keep them from rusting.
“Thank you for all your help, Abby.”
You are welcome. That was fun.”
“Not fun for your dad though.”
“Oh, he will be fine. Tammy will fuss over him. Mom will make his favorite dinner tonight, and I’ll ask him to help me with my wood burning project for 4-H. He likes doing that.” Abby hesitated for a moment. “He really is a nice guy you know.” She said a little defensively.
“I’m sure he is,” I reassured her. “You ladies have him figured out pretty good?”
“I think so.”
“Well, he is a lucky man. I hope we work together again someday.”
“Me too! See ya later!” Abby laughed and trotted back to the house waving her five dollars in the air.
I never saw them again. A few years later I ended up on their street taking a short cut home. I slowed and thought about stopping in quick to say hello when I noticed the horse barn, the trailer and the corral fence were gone. The dirt paddock and gravel track were replaced by grass. There was a different name on the mailbox as well. They must have moved.
I still think about Abby and her family now and then and wonder how her life turned out as she grew up. I’ll bet that no matter what she is doing or where she is, she is laughing. At least I hope so. The world could use more of that contagious laughter.
Now I can't erase that picture of you in 40-42 bermuda shorts! Thanks buddy!!! ;)
What a funny story John. Could just picture the whole thing. Nothing like working with the public if you are a service provider.