There are many things we do in a barn that anyone would be disgusted to do in any other context. Picking hooves is certainly one of these things. You go up to this big animal, run your hand down its leg, push your weight against theirs, squeeze their tendons down by their hooves, and wait for them to give you their foot. Then you pick. With the hoof in one hand and the pick in the other you start cleaning. Digging really, looking for anything that might be hurting the horse. There is poop followed by more poop followed by mud followed by poop again and you must keep going until their foot is clean of all obstructions and you can see the frog of their foot with a cleared ditch going around it. There is poop on your hands and your pants but you have three more hooves to go. By the end of the day you have it on your shirt and you wear it in your hair and on your face but you return home where it is strange and uncomfortable to even pick up your dog’s poop with a plastic bag as a barrier, only to return to the barn the next day to pick all four hooves all over again.
Photo courtesy of flickr
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