The farrier was out last night to trim and shoe Smokey and Leo. Now, being nearly 22 years old, Smokey has had his fit trimmed and shod and times, I suspect. Rough math yields an estimate of 120 to 140 times. One would think he'd have it down by now.
He is usually well behaved, unless it takes too long, and then he gets a ornery, jerking his feet away, and, on two occasions, kicking the farrier. I guess age makes a fella impatient.
Our regular farrier is out of commission, with an injured hand, so his partner Jerry came out to do the job, which is of no concern, as he does good work.
I don't know what was wrong with Smokey last night, but he was a complete imbecile. He would not stand still, was constantly snorting and blowing, showing the whites of eyes, and spooking at every little thing, even the barn cats cats. Talk about a moving target. Jerry was really earning his keep, and didn't appear to be the least bit bothered by it.
Right up until Smokey knocked him over, that is. He was on the last foot, right hand, when he went sailing across the barn. He was allright, but I can assure you that Smokey got a butt whupin' after that. Enough was enough. Jerry insists that Smokey did not kick him, but rather pushed him. I'm not convinced that he wasn't just being gracious. He didn't charged me extra, and assured me he would come back next time.
I'm not really certain what was wrong with Mr. Fidgety Horse. Admittedly, the barn was a bit busier than usual, with people, horses, the tractor, and cars coming and going. Still, these aren't things that normally agitate him. It was a clear night, with full moon. Maybe he's a Werehorse.
Needless to say, he's going to spend some time in the round pen before his next shoeing.