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WE ARE WELL into summer and things seem to be flying by. I hope all of you are drinking plenty of water and staying away from the rank ones that will get you hurt.
In the winter, customers say they have six horses to be shod at one stop and when you show up it turns out to be three trims. In the summer they say they have three trims and when you show up, they have six to be shod.
In the winter, you’re always hunting for a nice sunny spot to warm up a bit. In the summer, you are always hunting shade; it never seems to work the way you would like it.
How many times have you had to hold yourself back from taking out your pocketknife and trimming that nasty cocklebur-infested tail that keeps aiming straight for your good eye? The flies seem to mutate toward the end of the summer and can’t wait to get the latest flavor of fly spray that’s not working at the moment. And it seems the horse owner keeps the good fly spray hidden like a single-malt scotch that only comes out at Christmas after the in-laws have gone home.
Winter’s pace always seems a little slower because numbness in the ends of your fingertips is not high on your priority list. In the summer you always have the end of the day in the back of your mind, which keeps you humping along at a pretty…