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Blood, sweat and farriers: the story of a prairie horseman

Few people carry forward the lost art of farrier work

KEESEEKOOSE — Listening to Lindsey Keshane talk about his love of horses and career as a professional farrier, one can’t help but conjure images of the Taylor Sheridan dramatic western series, Yellowstone, starring Kevin Costner.

Growing up on the dusty plains of the Keeseekoose First Nation, Keshane was born into the life of a cowboy — surrounded by his dad’s collection of thoroughbred horses.

“Honestly, as a kid, I dreamed of becoming a jockey,” shared Keshane. “But by the time I was 13, I was already 140 pounds – so that wasn’t going to work out. But I remember always admiring my dad’s farriers. They were big, strong, healthy men. When I was in grade 10, I jumped at the opportunity to learn how to work on a horse’s feet with some of my high school buddies in Pelly. And, I loved it.”

Keshane said that before he was born, his father was one of the first Indigenous penitentiary guards in the province who later moved into a career of serving as a police officer. Although Lindsey had loved growing up around horses, his father couldn’t see much career potential in it. He encouraged Lindsey to leave his home on the reserve and “see the world.”

Thinking he might someday follow in dad’s footsteps, in the fall of 1986, the freshly graduated high school student set out to North Battleford where his sister worked as a nurse and his brother-in-law was a member of the RCMP.

“I thought if I could hang out with them, maybe that professionalism would rub off on me,” said Keshane with a laugh. “I seriously thought about joining the RCMP, but my eyes weren’t good enough. In those days, this was an issue. Laser eye surgery was a new thing, and the cost was well beyond what I could afford – about $5,000 per eye.”

After working odd jobs for a year, Keshane made his way back home. It wasn’t long before the 18-year-old got into trouble.

“I remember it was Boxing Day of ’87 and I was charged with impaired driving. I lost my license for six months and I was fined $750. My dad was not impressed. So to straighten me out, he signed me up to attend the Oklahoma Horseshoeing School in Oklahoma City in January of 1988. A couple of his local horseman friends, Leonard “Spuddy” Ketchemonia and George “Johnson” Tourangeau pitched in to help cover the tuition fee and even drove me down to the school.

Keshane described the following eight weeks as an “intense boot camp” under the tutelage of Dr. Jack Roth, one of the last blacksmiths from the US Calvary. Keshane said that Roth, who was previously a drill sergeant in the army, was very welcoming when he first arrived at the school.

“I arrived a few days early before classes started, so I hung around and got to know the staff,” explained Keshane. “Jack was very pleasant and friendly. He said ‘Oh, a Canadian. We’re so happy to have you here. Welcome! But then when Monday morning rolled around, I woke from a deep sleep with him flipping on the light and kicking my bed and yelling LET’S GO! GET UP!”

On his first day, Keshane was presented with a 42-inch tall pony to work on.

“I was so mad,” explained Keshane. “I just sat there, looking sour. In my frustration, I ended up trimming that poor pony’s hooves so short that they had to be packed. It’s kind of like when you trim your own toenails too short and they hurt inside your shoes.”

After grumbling all day and doing a poor job on the pony, the Oklahoma instructors took notice and asked Lindsey what was wrong. “I didn’t come here to do no damn pony,” explained Keshane. “I came to do big horses.”

Keshane arrived at class the next day and standing there in his stall was a huge Clydesdale. For a job that should have taken two hours, he took all day. Again, Keshane was mad.

“Jack took me aside and said, ‘Kid, you’re in race country. The state of Oklahoma is the heart and home of the very best horseshoers. Did you actually think anyone would let a student work on their racehorse?’

“Looking back,” recalled Keshane, “I would have never hired me 35 years ago.”

In fact, Keshane said he thought the first two weeks were going to break him.

“I just about came home,” he said. “One of the instructors said, ‘If you can’t take this, I will help you out today – and then you can go home with the rest of the Canadians. How many Canadian horseshoers do you know? Did any of them graduate from this course?”

Digging into that challenge, Keshane held on.

Over the following six weeks he joined the class in the shop every morning at 6:30 a.m. to warm up with forge work. By 10 a.m. they would all sit down for breakfast. They would continue shoeing horses all day long. Keshane described the work as exhausting, dirty, painful, and bloody.

“For every step, they wanted perfection,” said Keshane. “We were learning and dissecting every component of the hooves and the anatomy – everything below the knee.”

Keshane said he ultimately learned how to forge 25 different types of horseshoes. He also learned to craft his own tools by forge – beginning by borrowing tongs from a fellow student in order to make his own set.

By the time the fourth week of the program came around, Keshane had found his groove.

“Between weeks four and eight, my basic skills were so strong that I was helping other students. On graduation day, Jack announced my name at the end of his presentation. He said, ‘And last, but not least, Mr. Daniel Lindsey Keshane – one of the finest students leaving here today.”

Later that day, the team of instructors took Keshane aside and invited him to continue his training at the school by registering for a 16-week student instructor course.

“I was so excited with the invitation that I ran to the nearest payphone to call home. First, I called my girlfriend to tell her, and she just immediately broke up with me. Then I called my dad. But, it was spring, and he really needed help back on the farm, so he didn’t want me to stay either. I was torn, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity, so I began the new program and a few weeks in, my dad really started to pressure me. Finally, he said if I came home, he would buy me a real nice racehorse. That got my interest. I guess he figured out the only way to convince me.”

Keshane ended up finding a great deal on a small, new trailer and headed for home. On route, he decided to check out a newspaper ad that featured a nice-looking horse for sale at Rutland Ranch in Independence, Kansas. When he arrived, he found a huge barn that housed 140 horses with a large arena and a tiny farmhouse. Knocking on the door of the house, he was greeted by a small, old man who asked what he could do for him.

“I told him I wanted to buy a horse and take it home to Canada. He wondered why I had come so far just to buy and I horse, so I explained how I was on my way home from the Oklahoma Horseshoeing School. The man called out to his wife, ‘We’ve got a blacksmith in the house! Get him a drink, Millie!”

Before he could say much, the old man insisted Keshane stay and work for him. It was the start of breeding and training season and there were 150 horses to trim by May.

“He told me supper would be ready soon and showed me to the bunkhouse. I ended up working the entire season – trimming feet, collecting semen, and artificially inseminating mares. Finally, I headed home with my pick of two beautiful horses.”

Arriving back in Canada with his refined skills, Keshane still didn’t believe he could make a career out of shoeing horses. He admitted his business skills were lacking. But that changed when he met his first customer – an RCMP officer named Lynn Johnson from Canora.

“Lynn was very happy with the work I did for her and she spread the word to all of her horse friends. I had similar support from Tannis Bennett who lived in Grenfell, and Carol Holstrom who lived in Wapella. Those women all really helped introduce me to so many other clients across a broad area.”

Keshane said he noticed that his particular skills were not only rare but in high demand.

“In the horse world, if you walk around the arenas with a hoodie, no one will give you a second glance. But if you go to a horse show or track with chaps and apron, they know you’re a farrier – and you’re suddenly treated like a rock star.”

As word spread, Keshane became well known across the prairies as a talented farrier. But it was his love for horse racing that eventually kept him from settling down in one place and serving his clients on a consistent basis. After becoming a father to six children, navigating a divorce, and losing a son to suicide at 16, Keshane struggled to find a balance between getting to the city race tracks, making a living, and supporting his growing family. In 2008, he was bucked off a young, new horse he had traded for an older, well-trained one. The incident resulted in a cracked hip that would bother him for the next two and a half years. He decided to take a break from horse work and earned his A1 trucking license to make ends meet.

Today, Keshane is living back on his homeland at the Keeseekoose First Nation with his new girlfriend, his children ages 13, 11, 9, and 3, three horses, and one pony. At 53, his cowboy heart is still beating strong, and he sees that same desire showing up in his own children.

“You’ve got to have that real passion to do this work,” explained Keshane. “I can see that potential in my kids. There’s nothing like a horse to keep you busy. You gotta love it though – it’s hard work, sweaty, and smelly. I was a single dad for two years and I didn’t have the time to do much. Now that I have a partner, I really want to start racing again.”

Keshane said he also has a dream of someday building an arena on the Keeseekoose reserve that offers his people and those from the surrounding communities the opportunity to learn about horse care, training, and riding.

“Horses used to be a big part of life on the prairies. Since the grain industry has taken over, there are very few cattle farms and much less need for horses.”

Keshane explained that the art of forging has also drifted into hobby status, as modern horseshoes are cast with steel and racehorse shoes are made from a much lighter aluminum. However, he does still own a forge at his home and retains the knowledge of the old methods of making shoes, as well as handmade tools.

Just prior to his death in 2011, Keshane said his father may have somehow known he was at the end of his life.

“For years, my dad used to always say to me, ‘You know, son, I’ve had some really good horseshoers over the years.’ He would say this to me year after year. I would listen – feeling like he just couldn’t see me in the same league as those old pros. But then in that last year of his life, he said, ‘I’ve had some really good horseshoers over the years, (with a little crack in his voice), but you’ve always been the best.’”

Keshane said it was that validation from his father that finally gave him the confidence to feel proud of his talents and his ability to pass on the skills of his trade.