Hoofing It: The Wild Ride of Finding a Farrier for Our Gentle Giant

Hoofing It: The Wild Ride of Finding a Farrier for Our Gentle Giant
Because apparently, clipping a draft’s nails is a bigger deal than we thought.

Running a business, wrangling children, and managing a homestead? That we can do. But finding someone to give our beloved Belgian’s hooves a trim? Now that nearly broke us.

Who knew that booking a farrier for a sweet (but very large) draft horse would feel like cold-calling a rockstar for a house call? Every message we sent was met with either a polite “no,” a hard pass, or quotes that started at $500 — with a vet present. For a horse who isn’t mean. Just… hesitant. And yes, we admit, a little stiff.

Cue the desperation.

After hearing "sorry, I don’t do drafts" for the twentieth time, and watching our sweet old boy shuffle around uncomfortably, Tanner did what any man does when backed into a corner: he went to Peavy Mart. The plan? Buy the tools. Do it ourselves. Because apparently we’re out here building barns, running a spa, and now — hoof trimming too?

We were ready to give it a go, if only because there were no other options. That’s when I sent one last message, half-joking, half-pleading, to someone I’d never met — Christina Adamo. The name alone had the energy of a woman who didn’t scare easy.

And let me tell you — thank the hoof gods for that message.

Christina rolled up like some kind of farrier fairy godmother: part grit, part intuition, and just the right amount of crazy to take on a job that 15 men had turned down. She didn’t show up with stocks, drama, or ego. She came with experience, patience, and a willingness to actually see our old boy for who he is — a former champion who gave his body to hard work, not a problem horse.

She earned his trust. She took her time. She saw his stiffness as pain, not defiance. And she handled him with such calm confidence that even we breathed easier. Watching her work was like watching someone speak a secret language — the kind that only comes from truly understanding animals.

It turns out he didn’t need restraint.
He needed kindness.
He needed Christina.

Here’s to the unsung heroes of the farm life — the women who show up, tools in hand, ready to do what others won’t. Christina, you’re a legend. And to anyone out there struggling to find the right person for the job — whether it’s a farrier, a friend, or a facialist — trust me when I say: keep looking. The right one will show up. Likely covered in horse hair, holding a rasp, and completely unfazed.