Teaching horseshoeing to ringers on a West Queensland station recently, my youngest pupil was Henry, a very determined three year old who was quite adamant that he was going to trim his own pony, and would I just please tell him how to do it. We had the same battle when it came to shoeing the pony, and for the sake of the pony, I won that battle, and Henry had to be content with nailing the trimmed offcuts to the fence posts. I put a tiny pair of aluminium racing plates on the front feet, which really impressed Henry no end.

A week later I had an email from Henry’s mum Prue, to say that Henry had won the local mini-camp draft against seven and eight year olds, and that it must have been my good shoeing. I don’t take credit for that at all; with that sort of determination everyone should watch out for Henry in another ten years.

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