Pretty busy. Full of news. A newborn---born about 30 minutes ago---friends' baby. A death---friends' family. Sending flowers to families. Am so far from both, so I have to communicate via iPhone or iPad.
It's almost midday on Friday, 27ºC or 80.6ºF, 56% humidity, searing clear blue sky. The farrier has just finished trimming the hooves of our five horses and 2 donkeys. When he was young he would have been 6'1", built like a weight-lifter, and ready to take on any danger for the better wages. Now this job, that normally takes 15 minutes per horse, takes him ages because he's a miracle. Has survived 2 rounds of experimental treatments for a rare form of leukemia, a quadruple heart bi-pass, Hashimoto's disease and numerous other health problems all resulting from the chemotherapy. He bends over under the horses, which is acutely uncomfortable for him, and does the pedicure beautifully, all the while talking and popping pain-killers. I listen to the story of his life. He's been an abattoir slaughterman and butcher, a 'roo and wild boar hunter, a concrete foundation builder, a road worker and countless other jobs, but the thing he's done most is working with horses. He has inside stories about all the famous studs, the people, their horses and all the details. Catholic family of six siblings. Father an ex-army sergeant and ₤10 Pom, who used to beat the sh*t out of them and left him deaf in the left ear. Luckily missed the lottery for conscription to Vietnam. He seems so mellow now, so calm and unflappable, the ideal type around horses. Yet it seems that when he was young he was quite the brawler. Didn't mind getting drunk in a pub for a bit of biff and boff - especially if he could do it by defending someone who couldn't defend him or herself. Two marriages -- five kids, several grandkids and somewhere along the line became a JW. He needs this work. Without it, he would be living alone, stuck in a tiny shack in the country, feeling useless. Some of his stories might be a little on the tall side. He's been coming every four weeks for twelve years now. Each time I hear the recital, till now, I think I could write it word for word. Each time he leaves after finishing his work, I am left with a sense of awe and wonder. There's a novel in there somewhere - about the incredible resilience of someone who truly loves life and cherishes every second that he gets.
I had to chuckle because I've never heard anyone call trimming horses feet a pedicure. lol. For those people who have never owned a horse, donkey, goat, etc., or known someone who has, you can't have an appreciation for the level of hard work it takes to be a farrier. You're right, it's back breaking work and they're worth every cent. They take the risk of getting bitten, trampled on or worse, kicked and possibly killed every day. I've always said that farriers and the cowboys that rodeo are some of the toughest men - a man's man if you will. They can tolerate pain that would send most of us to the ER.
You're so right. :) Especially the farriers who have to deal with superfit sport horses kept idle 23 hours a day in stables, coming out for the farrier dancing as if bull ants were biting them. Or stallions turned neurotic and dangerous due to ignorant husbandry. Or even just a horse bitten by a march fly at the wrong moment. Bad back, pulled muscles and bruises, cuts and scrapes that could get infected, need for vaccinations against Tetanus and other lethal diseases, broken limbs, concussions, clients who try to avoid paying, or inexperienced ones who don't know how to train or handle their animals. In Dave's case, his leukemia was the direct result of using epoxy-resin plastics in remedial treatment of hoof deformities in foals. The instructions said that chemical proof gloves and gas-mask must be used - but to use them meant no dexterity for the task, and no ability to see what one was doing while bending over the foot - catch 22 - and hence no insurance for it.
Aware of all this - I try to make things as easy for him as possible. The horses were trained from birth to be quite, easy and safe to handle. They are brought into the barn and waiting for him when he arrives so he has shelter from the elements. We bring him his choice of refreshments half way through the job. Take him out to a nice lunch a few times a year, visit him when in hospital, slip a tip into his car when he's not looking (otherwise he'd refuse), and let him take all the time he needs. We will miss him like hell when he dies. There are other younger farriers around now, reputédly okay at what they do, but we will stick with Dave as long as he wishes to keep working. Rough diamond might be an awful cliché, but it's exactly what he is.
This post was edited by Benedict Arnold at November 19, 2016 8:38 PM MST
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