Written once upon a time… 

This is my first week of horse school, and I just finished day 4. The instruction includes observation, lecture, and practice, practice, practice. Rinse, & repeat.

 

The instructor is a third generation farrier and one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. His sport is Cowboy Mounted Shooting (shooting a gun at targets as you barrel race on top of a horse… could you get more republican?) His expertise is horsemanship, blacksmithing, and putting shoes on horses. Now in his sixties, he gets a lot of mileage by passing along his knowledge to the younger generations.

My fellow students are all very kind. One is a rodeo prince who goes to a college in Wyoming that has horse-shoeing classes and roping competitions. He’s a talented hot-shot. Another is an ex-marine who grew up on a farm and took charge of the military’s mules in California. I guess the armed forces still uses equine transportation. Another guy served in the air force, and all he wants now is to live quietly in the country with horses. I’m the white-collar brunette who’s surpassing everyone’s expectations (although, that’s not saying much, since I’m sure they had very low expectations for a girl who doesn’t know horse knots).  The class assistant is a cute Canadian girl with a big truck and country accent. She gives me rides to and from the school. We’re also roommates. Two students from the last session have paid for a second term to have extra practice under a great instructor (and perhaps to avoid starting up their own clientele).  So there we are: 4 guys, 3 girls, and horse, after horse, after horse.

 In the mornings I’ve been getting practice “under the horses.” I strap on a huge pair of chaps, gather my tools, and then approach the horse. I’m learning to ask for the foot, and once I have it, struggle to keep it in my hand / lap. It’s hard to use new tools on a moving subject, especially one that looks over your shoulder and breathes down your neck. Some things I’ve made note of to myself: get some steel-toed shoes in case I get stepped on, and get a tetanus booster.

 In the afternoons, we take time on the anvil. The ANVIL!  One you would see in Loony Toons, or, I suppose, in Brawny Man’s garage. It involves forges and tongs and hammers. Our first task was to straighten a horseshoe completely. The following day, we were told to shape it back to its original shape. I’m slow, but eventually, I got good results!

 

Here’s the classroom.

And the subject / patient / very heavy animal

Hoof Vocabulary

The school’s property

I’m having a lot of fun, learning LOTS, and trying to keep my nails clean. I’m living in a little apartment during the week (boarding is included in the tuition) and I’m looking forward to taking a break this weekend and returning home for a few days.

I am pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. 

Dirty nails,

Angela