In my new home, I was a job horse (a horse that many different people pay to use). People who did not own horses came to rent me. Some drivers were good, but many were very bad.
Some drivers pulled the reins too hard. They thought they had to hold the horse up. This hurt my mouth very much. It was very stupid because I could walk perfectly by myself.
Other drivers were too loose with the reins. They did not pay attention. If I stumbled, they could not help me. I liked to feel the driver's hand on the rein. It helped me know what to do.
Some drivers were just careless. One day, a man took me out in a phaeton (a light carriage with four wheels). He had a lady and two children with him. He talked and laughed the whole time.
There were many loose stones on the road. The driver did not look at the road. A sharp stone got stuck in my foot. A good driver would feel this immediately. But this man did not notice.
The stone was stuck in the frog (the soft, middle part of a horse's foot). It was very painful. Every step hurt me. The man thought I was being lazy. He hit me with the whip and told me to go faster.
A farmer on a small horse saw us. He told the driver to stop. He said I had a stone in my shoe. The driver was surprised. He said I was just a "lame beast."
The farmer got off his horse. He lifted my foot. He saw the stone. He used a stone-pick (a metal tool for cleaning hooves) to take it out. He showed the stone to the driver.
The farmer said it was a miracle that I did not fall. He told the driver to be careful. He said my foot was badly bruised. The driver did not even know that horses picked up stones.
The farmer rode away. My driver started to move again. He still used the whip. My foot hurt, but I was happy the stone was gone. This was the life of a job horse.