There once was a farrier named John. It’s not his real name, but we’ve all been John at some point.

John had been shoeing most of his adult life. He was competent. Experienced. Busy. And like many of us who’ve done this long enough, he’d grown a little complacent when it came to owner requests. Arguing just wasn’t worth the energy. After all, he was “just doing what was asked.”

One cold December day in New England, John was shoeing a mare for a new client. The horse was overdue — as new clients often are — but at the time, snow and ice hadn’t set in yet.

The owner wanted the mare shod through the winter. She was adamant about one thing, though: No traction. No snow pads. Nothing “extra.” Why spend more money when it was already December and still 55 degrees?

John voiced his concerns. He explained the risks. He did what we’d all say we’d do. And then he ended it with the phrase that has likely left every one of our mouths at some point: “But she’s your horse. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Five weeks later, New England received 12 inches of postcard-perfect snow. Rockwell couldn’t have painted it better. Underneath was a lovely layer of ice.

The property sloped downhill on the turnout side of the barn. John didn’t know that. He’d never seen it.

The mare — let’s call her Fluffy — was turned out. Fluffy went down that hill with the…