Five Stride Line (Pony Jumpers #5)

Chapter 2

I leaned against the stable door and watched as Rick drove the nail into Robin's hoof with four swift, sure strokes, then twisted the pointed end off and let it fall onto the concrete pad. I still hadn't made a decision about Squib's shoes, much to Katy's disdain. I'd spent most of Monday evening online trying to research the pros and cons of shoeing horses instead of doing my schoolwork, but all the information I found had been adamant that I would be causing my pony long-term damage by letting a farrier nail big chunks of metal to the bottom of his hooves. The more I thought about it as a concept, the stupider it seemed, and while the rational part of my brain reminded me that horses had been ridden for years in shoes and had survived, there were also a lot of things about horse riding that had been accepted for years as 'just the way it's done', without anyone really thinking about why we still did it. Take mounting from the left side, for example. Back in the olden times soldiers had carried their swords on their left hip, so had mounted from the left to avoid bashing their horses with their swords. It made complete sense, but it had become a tradition that continued down the years to modern times, even though that reasoning was completely irrelevant now. And I'd also discovered an increasing number of people whose horses were successfully show jumping without shoes, which meant that it could be done – even right here in New Zealand.

Rick set Molly's hoof down and accepted the glass of water that Deb was handing him.

"Cheers." He wiped the sweat from his forehead before taking a long drink. "Much better."

"So's Robin, thanks to you," Katy told him. "He looks sound in the paddock, and the vet's coming later this week to check him out again and decide whether he can go back into work."

"Good to know." Rick handed the empty glass back to Deb, who headed back towards the house. "Almost done, then I'll get your grey trimmed up," he said, nodding towards me.

Katy was giving me a pointed look, so I spoke up. "Do you think I should put shoes on my pony?"

Rick looked at me, then shrugged. "Why the change?"

"He's been slipping a bit," I said. "I don't want him to get hurt, but..." My voice trailed off as I wondered how smart it would be to start asking a farrier if he was doing long-term damage to horses' joints, because even if he knew he was, he would be unlikely to admit it.

"A bit?" Katy interjected. "He fell over in the jump off last weekend," she told Rick on my behalf. "Lost his whole back end on the turn, strained himself pretty bad. She's just moved him up to metre-fifteens, and he's entered in his first metre-twenty at Taupo in two weeks. But AJ won't admit that he needs shoes for traction, so you'll have to talk her into it."

Rick frowned as he moved to Robin's back hoof and lifted it, resting it on his knee. "It's not my job to talk you into anything," he told me. "You're the rider, you know what's best for your pony."

"But she doesn't," Katy insisted, following him to Robin's hind end. "He can't jump metre-twenties and move up to Grand Prix next year if he can't even keep his footing on the corners."

Rick looked up at me. "If he's slipping a lot, studs will help," he said. "That's why we use them."

"What about the strain on their legs?" I asked tentatively, thinking again of Aidan's knee injury after his stud had caught on the grass. He'd made a full recovery, according to the physio, but he wasn't as fast as he'd been before, and probably never would be again. It hadn't bothered him overly much because he wasn't planning on a rugby career anyway, but if Squib suffered an injury like that I'd never forgive myself.

"I won't lie to you and say it can't happen," Rick admitted. "But it's a calculated risk, just like riding tight turns on slippery ground without studs would be."