This is a post I wrote on Facebook describing a day I had with Vern while we were fostering him:

Yesterday the farrier came to trim Vern’s feet. My farrier can be a gruff fellow, and the trim for Vern started badly. He picked up Vern’s front right foot and tried to flex the leg. Vern wobbled and hopped and clearly was having difficulty standing on the other three legs. It was a cool fall day but the farrier was dripping with sweat from the effort of helping to hold up that 1500 pounds. He was frustrated and was beginning to believe this horse had always been trimmed in stocks, would be a massive project to trim, and was crippled on top of his other ailments. (Grumble, grumble…) I gave Geoff the option of quitting the job. “You don’t have to continue,” I said. But he opted to go forward. He picked up the front left foot, and Vern shook, but stood pretty well. It was clear Vern wanted to stand for the farrier and would give it his best effort.
A good farrier can read a horse’s history of ailments and injuries. He has a good eye to see misalignments, bulges in muscle and tendons, stiffness, soreness, and other signs of stress. He can also get a pretty good read on the horse’s temperament based on his reaction to the discomforts and strains of picking up a foot and standing on three legs. As he went from foot to foot, Geoff began ticking off the list of work-related injuries Vern had sustained. “This guy pulled a LOT of weight in his day,” he said. “Probably was burning the candle at both ends.”
As the farrier did his work and as he read the story of each foot, his earlier grouchy attitude dissolved. It was replaced, gradually, by respect. Even reverence. This was an honest horse who had given every hard day’s work his total effort, just like he was doing for Geoff now. For Vern, things have not been easy, but he has given all he has to do the job the best he can.
When he was still recovering at the Rescue, the volunteers harnessed Vern up to give him a bit of work. They say he was happier than they’d seen him, and I believe it. Vern is a work horse: his mind and body are built for honest labor. To honor his history of effort, I think the least we can do is give Vern a safe future, and, as Geoff has showed, to respect that the aches and pains he suffers now are largely souvenirs of great work and great effort he gave for the people he served for so long.
Now it has been our turn to shoulder some weight for him. Vern’s amazing veterinarian, all the tireless CDHR volunteers, and my family have made a huge effort on Vern’s behalf to make him well, give him a safe future, and hopefully see the day when he can (occasionally) pull a light cart through a happy retirement. Isn’t it the least we can do?