Confessions of a Horseshoer

Preface

ix Preface “It’s not that horseshoeing is so hard, it’s just the dread of doing it.” Baxter Black Some people might consider nailing pieces of metal on the feet of large, unpredictable animals a questionable way to make a living. I’ll have to agree with those folks, and I often ask myself why I’ve been doing this for 37 years. I’m still working on an acceptable answer. Maybe writing this book will help me figure out why I’ve taken the paths I have.While I’m at it, I might also look at why I’ve decided to become a college professor as well as a horseshoer. I’m pretty sure my daddy had a lot to do with all of this. I’ll look at that, too. I like to shoe horses. I like to remember the experiences (most of them) over the years. I get to meet interesting horses, dogs, cats, and other animals. I get to meet interesting people,some of them interestingly unpleasant,who seem to enjoy talking to me, and for some reason often choose to share their lives and problems with me every eight weeks. I love the stories I hear from these people and their animals. x • Confessions of a Horseshoer • Maybe if I look closely at what I’ve been doing over these past years, I might even learn something new, myself. So this book is as much for me as it is for the reader. I like to shoe horses and I like to write about shoeing horses,but talking about shoeing horses is not as enjoyable as it might sound. Horseshoers usually don’t like to talk about their work. Like most horseshoers, I enjoy talking with other shoers about the vocation, but not with the general public. I get a bit cranky, probably because I often get the same response whenever someone asks what I do for a living. If I say I’m a horseshoer, they think I play horseshoes. If I say I put shoes on horses, they ask if they’re like tennis shoes. If I say I’m a farrier, they just look at me funny. Recently, attempting a new approach, I told the nurse giving me a tetanus shot, “I shoe horses.” She looked at me a moment and then said, waving her fingers,“You shoo horses? Do you make them go away using just your hand,or what?”I’ve run out of responses. If they do understand my profession, they’ll say something like:“Oh,you’re a horseshoer! That’s kind of a lost profession , isn’t it?” No, there’s more horses out there needing shoes than there were when they were our primary means of transportation. “Oh, that must be a really hard occupation!” Yes. “Oh, my grandfather was a horseshoer!” He was? “Oh, that must be a fascinating occupation!”Yes, it is.“Oh, do you enjoy your work?” Sometimes. And that’s about as far as the conversation can go. I’ve said all I want about the occupation , and the person has probably lost interest, anyway. It’s not a subject for small talk. When people at a party ask me what I do for a living, it’s better if I make up something to avoid what invariably happens if I tell the truth. If I say I sell • Preface • xi insurance or that I’m a dentist, I’m safe. No one wants to tell me their grandfather was a dentist, or that selling insurance must be a fascinating occupation. With that said, we can either part company or talk about something more interesting, like what they do for a living. When people discover I’m a horseshoer, they invariably ask,“Do you have any horses?”I always answer,“No.”I explain that I see enough horses every day, without having to look at one of my own. I like them, but I don’t need one. Besides, if I had a horse or two, I’d probably never take care of their feet, and it’s too much work to do for free. I’d have to pay some other shoer to do it. My best friend, Gary, is a good example of this. He’s a horseshoer, but never took care of his wife’s horse. She used to call me periodically to beg me...