PanAm Games

There are 12 horses on the 100-mile Endurance Race team. Four would
be on the official team. The rest would compete in the race as solo
competitors. The chef d'equipe, the team vet and the team ferrier
didn't like how Fritz moved, and thought he was a little off on the
left front. So they wanted to totally change his shoes--put special
pads on the the back, use aluminum shoes with iron tips all around,
then cover the outside of his hooves with a hardening puddy-like
material so the sand wouldn't get in around the nails and work the
shoes loose.

Donna (the horse's rider for this event) didn't think the shoes needed
to be changed. But the politics on the team were such that if they
didn't change his shoes, Fritz would surely not be chosen for the team
proper. I ended up holding Fritz for most of the shoeing. Partly
because Donna had other things to do, but mostly because she was so
angry. At one point, Donna was giving the ferrier such a hard time
about the aluminum shoes. She snipped, "I'll bet they won't last the
whole ride." The ferrier had explained that he was using these shoes
because of the dunes in the Spirit Sands of Southern Manitoba. He said,
"At a ride with different terraine, I would do this differently. I've
been with this team for years." She kept picking at him with doubts and
criticisms of his approach. Finally the ferrier stated in a low steady
voice, "I'll make you a deal. If you lose a shoe on the ride, I won't
charge you for this job." Finally, Donna walked away.

I stood with Fritz for the rest of the shoeing job. The ferrier used a
formaldehyde/terpintine mixture to the underneath of his hooves "to
pull out the soreness and toughen up the hoof." About six hours after
he did everything, Fritz seemed sounder and not at all tender when the
ferrier pressure-tested his hooves.

Two days later was ride day. Fritz passed all the pre-ride veterinarian
checks for soundness, but was not chosen for the team. So Donna and
Fritz competed solo. Yet the team officials were true to their word
that every solo rider and horse would be cared for during the day as
diligently as if they were part of the official foursome. Part of the
routine at each of five vet checks and holds (where the horses got a
mandatory 40 to 50 minute rest), was that the ferrier checked Fritz's
hooves. At the fifty mile hold, Donna snapped at him to get out of the
way as we all crowded around Fritz, sponging him with cold water while
encouraging him to drink and eat. The ferrier said, "Just doing my
job," and kept working.

At the last vet check and hold, Donna and Fritz had just nine miles
left until they reached the finish line. I held Fritz as the ferrier
checked his hooves. Donna sat exhausted in a fold-up camping chair,
drinking gatorade. She told us that after the last hold, Fritz had
waged an all-out sand dune strike. Every time they approached a dune,
Fritz had planted his feet and refused to go on until Donna got off and
walked through the dune too. As Donna was lamenting that this had not
been a fun ride, the ferrier came up beside her and with a sardonic
smile said, "By golly, I think you're gonna have to pay me after
all."