Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2013 17:15:11 GMT -8
Ok, so I work, yes... I work a full-time job, plus I attend college... plus, I work as a farriers assistant sometimes on the weekends and during the week, if need be.
I guess in some areas, it could be called a farriers apprentice, but it's not really an apprenticeship... I learn how to shoe and all, even though we don't have horses at the moment... I work for the farrier I used back when we had horses. Basically, I've gone with him to his clients houses a lot, and he teaches me as he works. I know his clients very, very well, and they know me. I am not 'allowed', by him, to shoe clients horses yet, but if they need a simple trim or shoes removed and hooves touched up, and he can't make it out, he'll sometimes call me up and ask me if I can go do it, and I get paid, since he sends me out in his stead.
I love it, but geesh, some people... let me tell yall what happened just earlier...
Farrier called me up just as I was getting ready to go watch some Buffy the Vampire slayer reruns and asks me if I was willing to go out to a NEW clients house, take the shoes off her two horses, and do some trimming on their hooves. Said she was a new client, he's never met her or done her horses, and he was only asking me because she said it was an emergency and he couldn't get out there today.
So, naturally, I said "ok". He told me he'd call her up and inform her that I was coming and explain things to her. Now, first off, this lady lives about thirty minutes from me (close enough that I know the area, but far enough away that I didn't trust myself with hand-written directions). Secondly, I needed a GPS just to find her place, and I still got lost...
So, I get to her house finally with my tools. Get out of the truck and she comes out, all confused, and asks me who I was. Um... the girl who's going to be taking the shoes off your horses, lady... Farrier hadn't called her and explained yet, so we made a call to him to clear up the mess. Then this woman, bless her, looks at me and goes "I'm not sure I want you to try and handle Tiny."
Now, I’m five feet, seven inches tall and weigh only one-hundred and twenty-nine pounds… but here I was, thinking… A horse named ‘Tiny’? How hard could he be…? So I told her that I’d get him done, one way or another, and asked about both horses. Well, turns out, this lady had a mare and a gelding. Tiny was the gelding and Pepper was her mare. BOTH horses had only front shoes on, but they had had the same set of shoes on for five weeks overdue. This lady informed me that the only reason her horses were so overdue was because she’d moved in almost two months ago and it had been crazy (her own words) getting everything settled (and she was extremely specific and wanted to make sure that I knew that that was the ONLY reason her horses hooves were so neglected).
She also informed me that Tiny was generally horrible for the farrier.
So, there I was… hadn’t even seen the horses yet, but my mental image of Tiny was on an unruly pony, Shetland, maybe…
Nooooo…. We get back to the barn, where her horses are at, and Pepper is a complete cutie… bay with three socks, in her early twenties and only about 14 hands, with shoes on. Tiny, on the other hand, was most certainly not ‘tiny’ in any way, shape, or form. I’m talking… tank. Big, whopping, tank. This lady informs me then and only then that ‘Tiny’ is, in fact, a Percheron cross. Looked just like a Percheron to me, though. About 17 hands tall, probably weighed 1400 pounds… thick, thick, thick horse…
And he had the audacity to pin his ears at me.
We got Pepper done first. The mare was excellent, it took only about fifteen minutes to take the shoes off and get her trimmed up. She stood, the entire time, free in the pasture, just as quiet as could be.
Then, I started on the demon. Now, whereas Pepper stood fine, Tiny had to be haltered and held. After the first few minutes of fighting with him to pick his hoof up and keep it up without trying to strike, I twitched him.
He didn’t like that none. I have NEVER been rolled and slug around by a horse like that one rolled and slung me around. He backed up. He reared up. He ripped the lead from the lady’s hands and took off across the pasture (it only took us about forty-five minutes to catch him, too). He broke her crossties. He nearly broke my arm. He broke the halter. He bit me. I punched him.
He charged the lady. He charged me. He drug me across the pasture…
THEN the lady goes “Oh, let me go get the shot of Ace I bought just for today.”
Seriously.
So, she Aced Tiny and after waiting twenty minutes for it to take effect, I finally got his hooves done, got paid, and came home.
And I called the farrier I ‘work’ for and told him I’m NEVER going back to that lady’s house and working on her horses again.
I guess in some areas, it could be called a farriers apprentice, but it's not really an apprenticeship... I learn how to shoe and all, even though we don't have horses at the moment... I work for the farrier I used back when we had horses. Basically, I've gone with him to his clients houses a lot, and he teaches me as he works. I know his clients very, very well, and they know me. I am not 'allowed', by him, to shoe clients horses yet, but if they need a simple trim or shoes removed and hooves touched up, and he can't make it out, he'll sometimes call me up and ask me if I can go do it, and I get paid, since he sends me out in his stead.
I love it, but geesh, some people... let me tell yall what happened just earlier...
Farrier called me up just as I was getting ready to go watch some Buffy the Vampire slayer reruns and asks me if I was willing to go out to a NEW clients house, take the shoes off her two horses, and do some trimming on their hooves. Said she was a new client, he's never met her or done her horses, and he was only asking me because she said it was an emergency and he couldn't get out there today.
So, naturally, I said "ok". He told me he'd call her up and inform her that I was coming and explain things to her. Now, first off, this lady lives about thirty minutes from me (close enough that I know the area, but far enough away that I didn't trust myself with hand-written directions). Secondly, I needed a GPS just to find her place, and I still got lost...
So, I get to her house finally with my tools. Get out of the truck and she comes out, all confused, and asks me who I was. Um... the girl who's going to be taking the shoes off your horses, lady... Farrier hadn't called her and explained yet, so we made a call to him to clear up the mess. Then this woman, bless her, looks at me and goes "I'm not sure I want you to try and handle Tiny."
Now, I’m five feet, seven inches tall and weigh only one-hundred and twenty-nine pounds… but here I was, thinking… A horse named ‘Tiny’? How hard could he be…? So I told her that I’d get him done, one way or another, and asked about both horses. Well, turns out, this lady had a mare and a gelding. Tiny was the gelding and Pepper was her mare. BOTH horses had only front shoes on, but they had had the same set of shoes on for five weeks overdue. This lady informed me that the only reason her horses were so overdue was because she’d moved in almost two months ago and it had been crazy (her own words) getting everything settled (and she was extremely specific and wanted to make sure that I knew that that was the ONLY reason her horses hooves were so neglected).
She also informed me that Tiny was generally horrible for the farrier.
So, there I was… hadn’t even seen the horses yet, but my mental image of Tiny was on an unruly pony, Shetland, maybe…
Nooooo…. We get back to the barn, where her horses are at, and Pepper is a complete cutie… bay with three socks, in her early twenties and only about 14 hands, with shoes on. Tiny, on the other hand, was most certainly not ‘tiny’ in any way, shape, or form. I’m talking… tank. Big, whopping, tank. This lady informs me then and only then that ‘Tiny’ is, in fact, a Percheron cross. Looked just like a Percheron to me, though. About 17 hands tall, probably weighed 1400 pounds… thick, thick, thick horse…
And he had the audacity to pin his ears at me.
We got Pepper done first. The mare was excellent, it took only about fifteen minutes to take the shoes off and get her trimmed up. She stood, the entire time, free in the pasture, just as quiet as could be.
Then, I started on the demon. Now, whereas Pepper stood fine, Tiny had to be haltered and held. After the first few minutes of fighting with him to pick his hoof up and keep it up without trying to strike, I twitched him.
He didn’t like that none. I have NEVER been rolled and slug around by a horse like that one rolled and slung me around. He backed up. He reared up. He ripped the lead from the lady’s hands and took off across the pasture (it only took us about forty-five minutes to catch him, too). He broke her crossties. He nearly broke my arm. He broke the halter. He bit me. I punched him.
He charged the lady. He charged me. He drug me across the pasture…
THEN the lady goes “Oh, let me go get the shot of Ace I bought just for today.”
Seriously.
So, she Aced Tiny and after waiting twenty minutes for it to take effect, I finally got his hooves done, got paid, and came home.
And I called the farrier I ‘work’ for and told him I’m NEVER going back to that lady’s house and working on her horses again.