12/19/2020
*copied*
The Farrier.
Wake up, alarm clock blaring. Push a tired body out of bed, driven by determination, discipline and being of their word.
Coffee in a cup held by a tangling of aching joints and scars.
The few moments of peace before heading off to meet an owner, to spend a day of ringing in the ears, aching feet, back screaming.
“Stand mare” you beg as the memory of a close call burns into your brain—Sharp nails, sharp tools, 1,200lb unsettled flight animals with the strength and precision to change your life with one quick blow.
Juggling appointments. Last minute cancelations. Last minute, “emergency” stops.
Ungrateful clients, Gracious clients.
Cold hands burn and stick to even colder metal tools, shoes. Heart warmed by young children with questions and a roaring forge.
Clean—Clean. Balance. Shape—shape. Check your work—check your work. Line it up—check your work—Begin to drive a nail—hate the way it’s lined up—remove it. Do it again—Perfection.
Feel a hot breath on your neck. Body tenses, shrug off a bite.
“He won’t bite you.” The owner suggests.
Eye roll, know you’d rather not risk it but hide behind a polite face. Deep breath, patience.
New client? Scoffs at prices. Demands, demands. You? Meet the demands, to meet the demands again.
Take the blame. Differing opinions. Veterinarians, trainers, other farriers... “I read online.”
Striving to do your best. No—better than your best. You? Your biggest critic.
Watch lives change. Grow with clients, grow with horses.
Days of unsettled horses. Angry horses, spoiled horses, jerk-you-around horses, hang-on-your-back horses.
Last stop of the day. Few backyard trims. Breath of fresh air.
Old horse, 33. No teeth. Arthritic joints from years of tough work, tough demands. He met the demands.
He’s tender in his movements—quietly crippled by dull aches. Stands patiently for you, you wait patiently for him. Each joint, slow moving. Slow to give the leg, slow to bend, hard to hold—he tries. A mutual understanding of aching bodies. Quietness. Docile. Peace.
A soft voice—“he will be euthanized soon.”
You hold back emotion, swallow a tear. Make a polite comment. Back to work, hide your face.
Finish your job.
Run your hand down the back, feel a deteriorated body. Say goodbye. Go home.
Wake up, alarm clock blaring...
