Typical Day
As Horace Shoe sits up on the side of his bed, he says the same thing as most mornings, "Hey sun, I beat you again." Some people might be grumpy getting up before dawn almost every morning, but not Horace. As a farrier, he gets to spend his entire day with horses. To Horace, that's about as close to bliss as it gets.
Horace flips on the tube to catch up on the news as he makes a nice, hearty breakfast. The life of a farrier is pretty busy, so lunch isn't always an option. And frankly, when you smell like a horse barn and walk into a fast food place, it tends to sour peoples' appetites.
Hoping to catch some real news, he rolls his eyes at a story showing a bunch of famous movie stars in fancy, designer duds. "Hmmph," he grumbles. "I'm the 'Christian Le-boot-in' of horses, and I look just as good in my Carhartt shirt and jeans. They've got nothing on me."
Soon, Horace is hopping in his truck, coffee in hand. He's off to see his first client of the day, a pretty little filly named Daisy. Would she be ready for a new set of shoes, or just some hoof care? As a cross between a podiatrist, a pedicurist, and a designer shoe maker, Horace is proud of the skills he's developed working as a farrier for the past nine years. Working horses and show horses need lots of foot, ahem, hoof care.
Horace pulls up to the gate of Young Farms and lets himself in. He'd been shoeing horses for the Young family for years. He remembers so well their first meeting, introducing himself like that old famous commercial. "Hi, I'm Horace Shoe, Farrier. I make money the old-fashioned way. I earn it."
Horace grabs his rasp, a tool kit, and a few sugar cubes before heading into the barn. "Good morning Daisy," he says softly, rubbing her neck and feeding her the sugar cubes. "How's my best girl today? Ready for some new shoes? Let's have a look."
He crouches down, gently checks Daisy's hooves, and does a little trimming with his cutters, then rasps the rough edges smooth. Horace is just finishing when Daisy's owner Bob strolls into the barn. "Mornin' Horace. How's the hardest-working guy in shoe business doing?"
"Couldn't be better. Daisy is good, too. Won't need another set of shoes for a few weeks. But I trimmed and filed her hooves, checked her hoof pads, and everything looks nice and healthy. Oh, and I cleaned out her stall."
"You gave her some sugar cubes, too, didn't you?" Bob asks with a tone that says he already knows the answer. Horace grins a little and looks down at the floor.
"I don't want to get kicked. Sugar cubes put a horse in a good mood."
"Sure. Seeing as how Daisy's been giving rides to kids for the past five years—without incident—at my petting zoo, I can see why you'd be concerned."
Bob chuckles, pats Horace on the shoulder, and heads out to his truck. After taking care of the Young's horses for several years, Horace is like a member of the family. Horace turns back to Daisy, giving her neck one last stroke. Horses' feet need lots of care, especially if they're a show or working horse, like Daisy.
As Horace drives away, he adjusts his rear-view mirror. The sun is just up and over the horizon, making its reflection a little too bright. "Still ahead of you sun. We'll see who finishes first today."
Sunset is half over as Horace pulls into his driveway. A big smile spreads across his face as he sees his wife and five-year old son playing in the front yard. They had been away seeing the boy's grandparents for a few days and he'd missed them.
As Horace climbs out of his truck, his little boy yells, "Dad, come see the new game I got. Grandma got it for me. She said you would love playing it with me."
Horace walks over, pausing long enough to give his wife a small kiss on the forehead. After a long day working in a dozen barns, he doesn't want to get too close before showering (which she certainly appreciates). The little boy runs up and shows him a handful of brightly colored plastic horse shoes. "See, dad. You take these horse shoes and you try to ring that stick over there with them," he said turning and pointing to a red plastic stake in the ground.
"Glad you guys are home, buddy. I'll have to call your grandma and thank her for doing this. Horse shoes is exactly the game I want to play when I get home."