When a cowboy rides a horse, well he needs to know how to nail iron on their feet. Where I was raised ,on an old sandy desert ranch, we never needed to shoe a horse. I did not learn that until later on down the trial, but I sure as Hell got a good lesson. I got the general idea of it while I was cowboyin’ in Texas, but really did not know a damn thing. I learned real quick if that nail goes in the wrong spot, well, you will find out about it real soon.

In 1976, just out of college, I decided that I needed more schooling, so I went to a horseshoer's school. If you got a lot of money and culture, they call them farriers. But at the end of the day, you are still a damn old horse shoer. This was at New Mexico State University in Las Cruces, The course was taught by my first ex father-in-law, Ras Rasmussem. He was one of the best that I have ever seen, and he was a good teacher. I did not agree with him on a lot of things, but when it came to shoeing a horse I did not argue. He was getting older then, but he could still go around a horse in fifteen minutes. I have not seen too many young men beat him, he was damn good. He was onry as Hell, but he made you learn the right way. He used the old Army Calvary Manuel as a classroom teaching guide, a fine book.

When I got out of that school, I went into business for myself. Hell, I was going to set the world on fire. I had all the tools, brand new anvil and no money. I needed some business, so I got some business cards made and I passed them all out. I waited for the telephone to ring, thinking of how, in school, I was told that a good horseshoer can get rich.

Then a week later after wondering just how we were going to pay the rent, that old telephone went to ringing. I picked up the phone, I heard a voice on the other end, it was an old black man. He asked if I was the man that could shoe a horse. I told him that I was his man. I told him that I would be there the next day at sunrise. I was, and he greeted me as I pulled into his driveway. As we said our hellos he showed me the way to a small pen that had an old gray mare in it, eating hay.

I got the old gray mare, she was a pretty easy old gal to work on and I had her front feet done. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old black man coming my way. The old mare was standing fine, but I knew that trouble was coming. He stood there, I clenched the last nails that I had driven in and dropped the hoof of the mare. I stood up as I was just starting to sweat, then I looked at the old black man. Then he looked at the job that I had done on her front feet - it suited him fine. There was more to be.told here, The old black man looked at me. He said, " Boy, now you doing a damn fine job on my old girl, but I wanted more, you know what I mean?" I looked at the old black man and said no.  I didn't have a clue to what he was talking about. Then he told me, it was shoes with heel caulks, where the heel of the shoe is raised on the horse’s heels. I told him that I did not carry them, and that they would not work for her. That suited the old black man just fine. I nailed the rest on her with regular shoes. First day out on the job and an old black man wants high heel slippers for an old gray mare. Ras did not tell me anything about this- the old black man was my school.

I finished the old gray mare, I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I wrote out my first bill. I knocked on the old black man's door, to get what was coming to me. He looked at me and I did not see dollar signs here. He said, " Boy, I aint got no money, just out of the Army, Hell, the old Eagle ain’t shit yet." But tell you what I will do, I will give you a bag of the old onions that they threw away at the dump. They were the ones that no one else would take. My first horse, my pay was a bag of reject onions that no else would take. In a month or so in a round about way I got my money from the old man. I just never went back, as that was a good lesson in horse shoeing. I learned many more over the years that I did it. I think that I helped a lot of horses walk better. Their owners, well you can never cure their thinking. They will always cuss a farrier if they are rich, if poor they will cuss you as the damn old horse shoer. That is why I got out of the business, tired of being cussed for the good job that I did. Not being paid, and when I did it was with a bag of old damn reject onions. It is the school of hard knocks, with a sheep skin from Hell. THAT’S WHAT YOU’LL LEARN FROM SHOEING HORSES.