Metramorphosis

by prettybluebirds

The Blacksmith Contest Winner

I always considered my friend Barb rather strange. We went to high school together, and both of us worked at a local riding stable. While Barb was an exceptionally good-looking girl with blond hair that hung to her waist, she walked and acted like a boy. Also, I could never understand why Barb was so gaga over my best friend, Sandy. It took time and more life experience before I figured it out.

Barb and I spent the summer between our junior and senior years working at Old Trails Riding Stable, and it was there Barb decided she wanted to be a farrier. Roy, the stable manager, and blacksmith, started teaching Barb all he knew of the trade, and Barb picked it up quickly. Soon, she was trimming the hooves of the riding horses along with Roy.

After we completed high school, Barb and I went our separate ways. I married the stable manager, Roy, and Barb paired up with a gal named Judy. I now knew why Barb was so different, but it still shocked me. Until that point in my life, I had never heard of same-sex relationships. It wasn't a topic often discussed in the early sixties and certainly never in my family.

The years passed, and Barb and I lost contact with one another. I knew she made her living as a blacksmith, but I hadn't seen or heard from her in ages. It was over fifteen years before I met her again.

Roy and I had parted company, and my second husband was a dairy farmer. I still had my horses but had divorced my blacksmith. The first farrier I hired, named Robert, turned out to be a dud. I knew good farrier work when I saw it, and Robert's work didn't fit my standards. I began searching for another blacksmith.

A friend had told me about a farrier named Brandon who lived in Tustin, Michigan, and supposedly did excellent work. I couldn't find anyone close, so I decided to give the guy a call and check him out. Brandon said he had other horses in the same area and would come in a week. It sounded good to me.

On the designated day, Brandon arrived in a beat-up old pickup. There was nothing exceptional about him, just another partially bald man with a short reddish-colored beard. I went outside to introduce myself and show him the horses to trim.

"Hi, I'm April, I said.

Brandon laughed, "You don't recognize me do you?"

"No, of course not," I replied. "I can't recall ever meeting you."

"I'm your old buddy, Barb. What do you think, I look a bit different?"

"Omigod! Barb, you're the Barb I went to school with? You can't be; Barb was a girl, and you most definitely are not." I thought the guy was trying to be funny, although I didn't know why.

"Yep, I'm Barb changed to Brandon. I had a sex-change operation and changed my name legally a few years ago. I used to feel like I was living in the wrong body, so I finally did something about it. I'm much happier now."

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. We talked while Brandon trimmed my horses, and he convinced me he really was my old friend, Barb. Somewhat altered but still the same person.

Brandon continued as a blacksmith until he retired. He took some more training and learned to care for gaited horses such as Rocky Mountain horses, Tennessee Walkers, and other breeds of that nature. He went on to trim and shoe-show horses for the elite. He also learned to shoe race horses, which is an art in itself.

What a fantastic journey it must have been to become an accomplished farrier while still a woman, and later to have a complete sex change. I admire Brandon for his perseverance under difficult circumstances. He cared for my horses until I sold the last one in 2008.

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