To him, it was a simple request – take care of the mules while he was off being the brave hunter-man. So simple, he didn’t really think to ask me before making the assumption that I’d say yes.
To me, it was a big deal fraught with all sorts of horrible imagery – me trampled in the stall, laying at the feet of the beasts with no one near to hear my cries for help. Oh, the horror when, days later, they discovered my lifeless body…
OK, I admit to having an imaginative mind and maybe a touch of melodramatic personality (especially when it involves me, manure, and large animals that have broken my nose in the past).
crabing discussion, I decided to go with the “I can do anything” mindset and gave my blessing for the hunting trip. (Like I really had a choice. Of course, the whole man-on-the-front-porch thing happened the day before the hunting trip, which didn’t help my bravery.)
Still, I carried on. It’s been a gorgeous weekend here, so I decided to make the best of it.
When I looked at what I put on to do my chores, the reality of what my world has becomes glaringly clear. And a bit depressing. What have I become?!
Since it was going to be a beautiful day, I thought I’d be nice and let the mules out into the small pasture near the barn so they could stretch their legs, get some sun, smell the breeze – you know, what we all love to do on those warm Fall days. The boys were really good going out of the barn for me – and apparently really needed to stretch their legs.
They were going a little crazy for the first minute of freedom. I felt really good about my decision to let them out. Plus, the Country Boy assured me that they’d be a breeze to get back into the barn.
I walked away thinking that I was turning into a real Country Girl.
So, evening rolls around. I had mowed the lawn, changed three exterior lighting fixtures, got two lamp posts fixtures working, and thought it was time to get the boys back into their stalls for the night. Thankfully, Mrs. B and her son were in the barn checking on the goats so I knew I would have help. Plus, I’m a Country Girl now, right?
Turns out, I’m still a City Girl. I figured that out when, at one point in the 45 minutes it took us to get the mules back into their spots, Mrs. B and I found ourselves in the stalls with the mules looking at us with amused faces on the outside of the rails.
I think I may have heard Spike say, “Suckas.” Come to think of it, Country Boy may have said that, too, when he drove away for his hunting trip…
When we finally were able to get them into the stalls and us out where we belonged, I thanked Mrs. B and her son for their help.
And I quickly called a friend to make a dinner date in the city. I needed to shake the dust off my heels and get back to my comfort zone where the only wild beasts I need to worry about are the people in the SUVs driving too fast.
Ya hear that Spike? This sucka is outta here.