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Java passed her last "I'm Just A Baby" milestone Wednesday. She got her very first pair of horseshoes. Since we're planning to do a LOT of trail riding this summer - which is doable now that she's four - it was time to put some protective shoes on her front feet.
My trail riding buddy John is also my farrier. In fact, that's how we met. He's an top notch horse shoer and he is VERY good.
He's been trimming Java her entire life, ever since she was four weeks old. As regular as rain, every four weeks, she gets a pedicure. She's easy to trim - she stands like a rock because it's a familiar routine, she knows John, and she trusts him.
But a trim and a shoeing are different in that a shoeing involves nails and pounding on the bottom of the horse's foot with a shoeing hammer. If it's done right - it's like a trip to the nail tech. Done wrong your horse can be lame for weeks or even months depending on the complications. A horse's hoof could be compared to your fingernail - there's a line separating the inside "meat" part to the outside "wall part." That line is called the white line. Keep a nail on the outside, it's like poking a hole in the white tip of your fingernail. Drive it inside that line and it's like tearing off your nail into the quick. There is VERY little wiggle room. If a horse is silly or difficult during the shoeing process, it's easy for the farrier to slip and drive the nail into the wrong spot, including his own hand or leg.
John and I weren't either one worried about the trim part of the process - it was how she would react to that first nail going in and the hammer pounding on the bottom of her foot. Ever since she was little, when I've cleaned out Java's hooves, I've tapped the bottom around the edges with a hoof pick, trying to prepare her for this day. But there's really no way you can replicate the sensation with a hoof pick.
John went through the routine of trimming, then he shaped the shoe and made sure that the holes were going to line up outside the white line. And then there was nothing left to do but drive it in.
Java's eyes got as big as baseballs when that hammer finally made contact with the shoe on the bottom of her foot. Her neck got tight and her muscles tensed up like cord rope. But trust is an amazing thing. With me standing there telling her, "you are such a good girl, you're so big now, easy baby," and John under her saying, "whoa, Java, that's a good girl," she stood there like an old veteran.
Once again, she's amazed me and I'm proud as I can be of her. My orphan foal has officially become my riding horse.
*****
This is layout #2 for my StampinUp workshop.
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