Out in the tall grass, Theo casts off a shoe like a wish, its whereabouts known only to him and the earth that swallows that iron circle whole. It will surface again when it is ready, when the stars align and the planet is tipped on its axis just so.
Maybe Theo’s propensity to want to be barefoot can be traced back to us likening him to a surfer dude, with his sand-colored body and white blond locks. He’s just trying to play the role, man, toe in the sand and all that. But for those of us entrusted with the care and keeping of his feet and body, Theo’s tendency towards shoe flinging is hardly ideal. Thankfully, our farrier is kind enough and around enough to restore our little Cinderella boy to his full set.
Theo’s talents of divestiture also extend to the bell boots meant to protect the shoes in the first place. We muscle on the hefty rubber kind, no velcro, very little give, in the hopes that these might last more than a day or two. Their longevity is much improved from the flimsy velcro variety (RIP, 4+ pairs – you will be missed) but longevity is not really their issue. No, for Theo has found a way to strip himself of these heavy duty bell boots without leaving a singular rip, tear, or blemish. A talent as impressive as it is annoying.
Each day as we lead him in from pasture, we make little bets. What are the chances that when the deer ran through earlier and got the boys all jazzed, he managed to stay shod? As his feet become visible out of the tall grass, we ask ourselves, how many shoes, how many boots?
It is a good day when the answer is four and four.
