Raudi had her shoes removed shortly before I left on my vacation. I came back, and rode her, and she would not trot. For the past two weeks, this is the way it has been. About a week ago, I had a choice – I could either not ride her at all or I could run alongside her on the road and ride her on the trails. I sensed that she was in pain – Icelandic horses tend to be stoic, so she may have been worse off than she indicated.

A tough decision, but I finally decided to go with the walking/running and riding option because, I reasoned, some movement was better than no movement at all. It’s been a rough week, with me frustrated by her inability to move out. I was further frustrated by Pete’s observation that she

Raudi gets shoes

might be “jerking my chain.” In our household, this means the horse is being obstinate because it sees no reason on heaven or earth to do as asked.

Today Josh, our farrier, took a close look at her feet. He deduced that there has been some separation of the hoof from the hoof wall, on the right front foot. He also checked her with his hoof testers and determined that she does not have underlying issues. Had she been tender when he pinched the sole and the frog, this would have been the case. He then put shoes on all four feet.

I took Raudi out immediately after Josh left (he also trimmed the other three horses). My immediate destination was Ridge Runner circle. Raudi, when asked, did trot. I was of course elated because I feared that something much worse might be going on.

Right now, the other three are going to remain barefoot. But Raudi is going to remain shod. Josh made a good analogy, observing that if we suddenly were to go barefoot, that we’d feel it too.

I have been reading a book on Hoof Care and Rehabilitation by Pete Ramey. It’s slow going, but I am adding a great deal to my existent knowledge base. I have always wanted to know more about hoof anatomy and physiology as this relates either having one’s horses remain barefoot or shod. As with taking the vet tech class, I also think that the more knowledgeable I am about such matters, the more pro-active I can be in dealing with my horses’ health care issues. I don’t have the desire to be a farrier or even do my own trimming. I’m just not hands on enough. I still desire to be a veterinarian, but it would take more years than would be practical to get up to snuff on the science and math classes. So my learning what I can at best ups my knowledge level further in talking with our farrier and veterinarian.

Our health care professionals are the best – and perhaps most importantly, we have an excellent rapport with them. If, say, Raudi continued to be balky on the road, I am sure that they all would have pitched in and helped me to solve that which would have been a vexing problem.

Next: 137. 5/17/18: Where does the Time go?