I’m carried but not heavy, I’m nailed yet feel no pain. Remove a D and I am an animal

I'm the seventh in a dozen that glow Removing my second letter leaves you with a primary trio Red strikes anyone who wants to see I might also be a name, one similar to a currency What am I?

I’m born once a day, grow old by nightfall, wrap fish better than gifts, and tell yesterday as if it just happened. What am I?

I prick the hand that grasps too fast, my name grows shorter when I’m cast from one to many; count me twice, I lose a letter, not my spikes. What am I?

In a rush, you are of course! Just don't put me before the horse.