The Loss of a Great One

Jons Chub Ole Man, "Seven"  1993- 2025

Where does one start when trying to describe the life of a great horse?

Not everyone gets blessed enough to have a great horse. I know that greatness is definitely subjective, but if you are lucky enough to get one in your life that saved you, shaped you, or just made your life significantly better in some way, you had a great one. 

One of the greatest horses I have ever had the pleasure to ride was Jons Chub Ole Man, more affectionately known as “Seven”.  Many people knew him and several friends rode him. He may not have been someone else’s definition of great but for me he was one of the greatest.

 We acquired “Chubs”  as a green broke 2 year old when I was 11. My mom purchased him for herself as a barrel horse prospect.  I could ride him as a 2 year old in a halter when we got him. I actually don’t remember a time he wasn’t broke. When we got him home, we decided that while it was fitting for such an easy keeper,  “Chubs” was not a name we could live with. Mom said that there was professional barrel racer who had a good horse named, Seven. We liked it and it stuck.

 He was a very smart, almost human smart at times. He could very clearly express what he did and did not like. He loved treats after a ride or an event. He also liked to receive treats after another horse at the trailer had done an event. If you forgot, he would gently remind you with a laser focused stare, or head flip. If you did not notice that, he would paw and dig as big of a hole as was necessary until you figured it out. Every horse on our place can thank Seven for that reward system he put into place and they all still enjoy today. He loved having his face rubbed, mostly after the bridle came off, but really anytime you wanted to scratch around his eyes, he would be into it until he progressed to rubbing his whole head up and down your body to get every itch scratched. It was not uncommon to almost be knocked off your feet.

 He did not like parades, and was a complete nut if you tried to get him through one. While he knew all of the gaming events, he refused to do any of them faster than a jog. If you tried, he would intentionally hit barrels and poles and do it accurately with your knee or shin. He could be very jealous and once watched me ride off on my young barrel horse, before riding him. I returned to him staring intently, sweating, and standing next to a gigantic hole. When I got on him to rope, he was acted like an idiot, jigging around and spooking at everything. It’s the only time in his life he ever came out of the rope box and stopped just before I threw and caused me to miss. He completely leveled out after that. Walked out of the arena, back to normal and was perfect in his next event. It was just his way to show his displeasure and get even. I recognized this and respectfully always rode him first after that.

 Seven changed me from an ok goat tyer to a really good goat tyer. From the first time I stepped off of him, I started winning. Tying in personal bests immediately. He gave me so much confidence.  He was naturally so good as a goat horse, always watching the goat, staying straight until I stepped off and moving out if a goat ever ran in of front him. I knew he would never cross the rope. (Except once and it was because he didn’t want to run through a mud puddle).  We won several goat tying buckles and saddles in our career. We won the State in high school rodeo in 2002, went to Nationals, won a round there and went into the short go 4th (my goat got up in the short round) Won 3 Northwest Region College saddles, went all 4 years to the College National Finals Rodeo and was the number one goat tyer in the nation my senior year before going to the finals. I had a great run but it was all because of Seven.

 Becoming a rope horse was a little more labor intensive. I started roping on him, having never really trained him to do so. He just kind of went where I told him, but he needed some formal training. We sent him to Danna Stovner for this. She had him a couple months and shared honestly with us, that she could keep him another month but she wasn’t sure he was going to make it as a breakaway horse. He didn’t love Danna because she made him work and work hard. And up to that point, being a baby and having the goat horse gig, he felt that was good enough. We brought him home and he pouted for several weeks. I spent the winter going to roping practice, with the plan of getting him a little more along and selling him in the spring.  But by spring, him and I had come to an agreement and we were hitting our stride. Seven would give me the same run every time. While he was not a big stopper (having his signature quartered stop) he rarely ever broke the barrier.  We weren’t always the fastest, but we placed often. In high school and college rodeo, that was the game and we were good at it. We placed at state in high school and went to nationals, we won 2 NW region college rodeo breakaway saddles and went 3 years to the CNFR.

After college, we dabbled in amateur rodeo, but it really wasn’t our set up. I was pregnant with Laramie anyways, so I slowed down. When I was 9 months pregnant, I decided to ride to the neighbors where everyone was roping. I threw on a bareback pad and got on. Seven would not go any faster than a trot and even that was difficult to get him to do. He knew I was different and was not going to let me bully him into doing something he was not comfortable doing, which was shaking up an unborn baby. After Laramie was born, he was my most trusted horse to ride with her. When she could ride on her own, he was the one to babysit. He even willingly packed her through the barrels despite that not really being his thing. He eventually got to come out of retirement and go back to breakaway and goat tying when Laramie started Jr. High rodeo. He made his last goat run for her at the age of 28.

 Since then, he has been retired, living out his days in the home pasture at Ferdinand. He has been fortunate enough to spend the last several winters in Clarkston, where the weather isn’t as harsh. Which leads us to today. Seven has been turned out into Heaven’s pastures. He was 32 years old this year, 30 of which were spent with us. I could not have asked for a better horse to be placed in my life. And I hope that everyone gets to have a horse like him in their's. He was a great one and he will be missed. 🐴❤️

The String That Binds Us

 

Council High School Rodeo 2001

This old goat tying string is, well, old...

My mom always tried to get me help with my goat tying when I was young since it was my worst and least liked event. I took lessons from several different people. One, when I was about 11, was a college student named Amy Hanley. After tying with her, she gifted me one of her old goat strings. And that's where it all began.

I carried that string with me for years, probably using it now and again for practice and a few rodeo runs. It was always in my goat string bag along with the many other strings from Willard Ropes. But it wasn't a Willard string, in fact, I never really knew what kind it was. It did, however, have a distinctive rubber cuff on the tail, but that was it.

I got really into goat tying between my freshman and sophomore year of high school. I worked really hard on my own to figure out how to be fast. I started tying in a very particular way that was specific to me. It was at this time that I circled back through my goat strings and connected with the old hand-me-down that I'd packed around for years. It just fit how I tied. It was a 3 ply, fuzzy, slightly stiffer, coiling on its own, old string that just worked.

It lived, coiled up, on my truck's rearview mirror when we rodeoed. I used bees wax to keep it sticky, letting it get warm on the dash of the truck, or under my butt when I was in the saddle. Once a year I'd submerge it in hot water and take a wire brush to it to remove all the old beeswax, to start fresh in the spring. I'd then coil it back up and let it dry.

I used that string for every practice and competition run from my sophomore year in high school until I graduated college. It won three District 3 High School Rodeo buckles, one Idaho State High School Rodeo championship saddle, a round win at the National High School Rodeo finals, 3 Northwest Region College Rodeo Saddles, qualified all 4 years to the College National Finals Rodeo, picking up a short round win there one year and tying in a couple 6 second runs. I even used it for a few post college runs too. It lived, for many years, displayed in a shadow box with a picture of me using it at the College National Finals Rodeo. That was, until..... until it got the call again.

Laramie has been tying goats since before she was born. I was pregnant with her in the spring of my senior year of college. We won the Northwest Region in both the goat tying and the breakaway roping. That year, I went into the CNFR as the #1 Goat Tyer in the nation. I competed at the finals, 5 months pregnant. While it didn't go how I'd have liked it to, I still made some good runs, despite having a passenger on board.

Flash forward to Laramie's freshman year of high school. She's starting to get a little more serious about her goat tying. I dig out my old string so that I can tie with her. Since she was taught by me, she ties like me. It's a very specific style of tying, but she doesn't know any different. After watching her struggle a bit with her string, I handed her mine. And that's where it's next chapter began.

It is now the string Laramie uses, for all her practice and competition runs. It still lives its life coiled up when its not in use which, I'm sure, has many diehard goat tyers out there, cringing. If you ask my husband, you'll hear that it's because I'm a freak, that I can use the same goat string (and breakaway ropes for that matter), for years and not need or want a new one. I say, I don't know anything about that. All I know is, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Sometimes the old stuff is just better than anything new that they make today. Sometimes it's not the equipment that needs replaced, it's your mindset.  Sometimes something just works and that's all that matters.

I can tell you that I'm fairly certain that that old string is likely from King Ropes. On our way to the CNFR my senior year, we stopped in Sheridan, Wyoming. Looking at their goat strings, I noticed they sported a little rubber cuff just like my old twine. I purchased one but honestly, it never quite measured up to my old one. Maybe it needs more ties and years before it can even be considered "good". Or maybe it just is what it is.

This old goat tying string is, well, old. I'd estimate it being somewhere in the neighborhood of 28-30 years old. But it is still good. It still has lots of life and fast ties left in it. I love getting to watch my old string and my tying style go on through Laramie. I'm excited to follow her on her journey and get to see where and how far that old string will take her. To be continued...

Laramie at the Lewiston HS Rodeo 2022

Me 5 months Pregnant with Laramie at 2006 CNFR

The One Who Stole Your Girl

 He was tall, dark and handsome.The kind that catches your eye.

I knew the moment I saw him, he was my guy.

Those shoulders! That butt! It took all I had...

Not to jump on him right there, I knew this was bad.

I approached him slowly, my heart in a flutter.

I couldn't form words,  all I could do was stutter.

I had waited so long to find, "The One".

And at that moment, I knew my search was done.

He was going to take me places, places I'd never been.

I already felt a bond with him, my new best friend!

The places we'd go, the things we'd see.

The fun we'd have, the people we'd meet.

I was lost in my future, when I snapped back to Now.

There was one little problem, not so much what, but how.

How would I tell my husband? What was I to do?

Come clean about everything and just tell him the truth?

How I'd been perusing those websites, for months on end.

Making quiet phone calls, many texts did I send!

Asking for pictures, videos, and all kinds of details.

Oh Dear God! And then there's the emails!

I think I'll just tell him, that I've found someone new.

And hope he understands just what I've been through.

It isn't easy to tell your spouse this, of course.

That I've finally found the perfect prospect, barrel horse.

He gives me a shrug, and says, "Honey, I knew.

You think I don't know you? Oh Darlin', I do.

You've been sneaking around, trying not to get caught. 

You think that you're stealthy, but Sweetheart, you're not!"

Well, that went better than I could have guessed!

Now, let's get the horse and forget the rest!

I put my arms around his neck and take a deep breath.

Oh my gosh, I already love him to death.

I kiss his face and look into his eyes.

I see my future, the limit's the sky!

My husband stands by, knowing there's not much he can do.

But He is just  thankful my new love has four legs and not two.

                                                                  Justifire,  aka: Justin 

The Reason

**Repost from FB on 12/24/2018**

I'm on call for work. I got called in last night, and there is potential I could get called in again today. The weather calls for snow. It's Christmas Eve. It's looks fairly chilly outside. I have cookies that need baked and a dessert to assemble. My house needs cleaned per usual. But when I step outside to go break waters, the sun comes out and it really isn't that cold.

 I look up and as often happens here in Ferdinand,  there is blue sky. But only here. The 360° view has dark clouds, fog, and snow showers in every direction. I decide I better saddle up and ride. After all, it'd be a shame to waste this moment on cleaning, knowing full well the moment will most certainly be brief. 

When I ride, I mostly prefer to ride by myself, I've always been that way. It's my time to think and appreciate the things I take for granted. Riding horses is my church, it's my connection to God, and it's my absolute favorite place to be.  

As I rode today, I got a bit tearful over memory that I was given to reflect on (that happens when something touches my soul).  I thought back to mid-August, and the 2nd time I rode Laynee. At that point she had maybe 10 rides on her and did not ride how I thought she should be riding for being a full year from her first ride. I'd probably had a really rough week with work too. I was so angry. My mom had to listen to me complain and be super negative. How am I going to catch up? This will take me forever! I might as well sell her, I haven't had the time so far, why would I the time now?? 

I wanted to blame Gabe for not making more time and not putting my horse first. I wanted to blame work,  I could have had so much more done with her if I didn't have to work so much. It was a meltdown of memorable proportions. Maybe that's why I got to revisit it today. 

I'm riding my mare down the road and realize she has been by far one of the easiest horses I've trained. Now, I've had some easy ones that have come along quickly. But the difference with her is, I started from a point where she had had far less done with her than the others.  She's very smart, picks things up very quickly, retains them, and has a pile of natural physical ability.  

It's been 4 months from that day I had a complete come apart. And while I've noticed how quickly she's progressed and been surprised and thrilled with her, it hit me today exactly how and why it's all come together this way. How that fit I threw, was so ridiculous! If I would have only known how well she would be doing 4 months from then, would I have been so mad?  

I don't know how fast Laynee will come along. She might be running by next month or maybe it'll be May or maybe even later. But what I do know is I don't have the answer, even guessing won't help, neither will throwing a tantrum about what I think may or may not happen. What will help, is keeping my perspective right and focusing on the work and lessons learned, rather than the outcome. Because it will turn out exactly how it's supposed to. It might be just how I envisioned it, or the complete opposite or like nothing I could have even imagined.

 Either way, all will lead me to the reason for it. And that reason, is the reason for this season. Merry Christmas!

UPDATE:(How things started to how they are going) Laynee ran in her first race on 1/19/19.( 1st video below) She won money in the 4D. At that time she had only been on the pattern inconsistently since October and I took over riding her in August. She has since become my go-to horse for barrels, poles and breakaway. The second video is of her last run in 2021, placing in the 1D

Embarrassment Is The Cost Of Entry

 Embarrassment. If you are afraid of it, you might want to get out of horses right now!

Horses will embarrass you. And their timing for doing so, is impeccable.  It's usually in front of a large crowd,  that person you bragged to about how well your horse was doing, when there's a big payout on the line, in front of a notable trainer... you name an important time and they will pull out something they've never done before. It's embarassing!🤦‍♀️

But I'm going to let you in on a secret. Put on your muck boots, this is about to get deep! You cannot, I repeat, cannot, be embarrassed if you don't want to be. The power of being embarrassed lies within you. Deep, right??  And I'm going to let you in on another secret. Nobody cares! I'm serious, they really don't! I'd say 90% of the time, we create thoughts for other people in our own heads. What must they think??? Oh my gosh, they probably think.....blah blah blah.  When you really get into the psychology of it, how important do we really think we are? So important that we believe people we barely know, if we know at all, have an opinion about us, our horses, or our run? Kind of arrogant, don't you think? If this is you, refer back up to the first paragraph to see how that one turns out.

Here's the thing. You may have heard it said, "Opinions are like buttholes, everyone's got one" and that is 100% true. It is human nature to have an opinion. Whether you are doing things right, wrong, winning or losing, everyone is going to have an opinion about it. And depending on how much they like you, these judgements will vary wildly. So what can you do?? The answer is this.... nothing. You do you. You keep trying to be better than you were yesterday... for you!

And let's address those people who aren't friends or maybe were friends but aren't anymore. The one's who loooove to see you deal with misfortunes, who enjoy it way too much when your horse does something cringeworthy, the people who can't wait to tell everyone else and make fun of you. That really says more about who they are than who you are. The less reaction you have, the less power they have over you. This is really the hardest part to mentally overcome. But I promise, if you stay so focused on you, you can't be affected. And that makes the toughest competitors.  You just might one day thank those bitches for forcing you to become better than them! "Hey, Thanks Bitches! Bye, now!"🙋🏼‍♀️

A few thoughts to leave with you to ruminate on...
1. What other people think of you is none of you business. - It truly isn't.  Not much you can do about it other than be you and they will like you or they won't. It's better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you aren't.

2. Your opinion of yourself is the key to happiness. -Give it to someone else and misery will follow you everywhere.

3. You would worry less about what other people think of you, if you realized how seldom they do.- Most people are so wrapped up in what they look like, what their horses are doing, what other people think of them, that they don't even notice what's going on with you.

4. If you own horses, you better practice humility and get comfortable with it.- It's a place you will be sent often especially if you start forgetting the horse makes the rider, not the other way around.

5. Know that you aren't special, everyone has something embarrassing happen to them courtesy of their equine partner. -Laugh a little but not too much, it might be you next! Be empathetic to those it happens to because if you haven't been there, you will be at some point.

6. If you aren't ready to be talked about, good or bad, you aren't ready for success. - They are going to talk no matter what you do. Pick a handful of people who's opinions truly matter to you. Ones who are there to help you grow and improve. Ask for their thoughts but don't be afraid to disagree with them either. At the end of the day, you know what's right for you and your horse.

And last but not least..
7. Be selfish. Be so focused on you and your horses you can't hear the unwanted opinions of people who don't matter to you. You don't have to be rude, though many will perceive it that way, but you do need to have very tight, strong boundaries. If people find that rude, well then, maybe they should not have said anything in the first place. That's on them.

Moral of the story: Embarrassment is inevitable.  Everyone will have an opinion. It's up to you how you react, how quick you let it go, and how fast you move on and recover. Stay focused on you, be happy with your accomplishments big and small and you will win everytime! 

And remember: Embarrassment is the cost of entry,  if you aren't willing to look like a foolish beginner, you'll never become a graceful master.✌

Trying to get Swiggy stopped after he ducked in front of the second barrel and ran off in Pendleton.

Mazie doing a little buck leaving the 3rd barrel, putting several inches of air under my butt.

This Is A Test...

 This is a test. This is only a test..... to evaulate how much effort you are willing put out to do what you claim you love to do. 

My morning started off really well. I slept well, didn't have to get up very early, started my day with a good breakfast. It was looking promising. I got myself ready for the race, put dinner in the crockpot, did a load of laundry and dishes, and put together all my horse's evening grain for quick and easy distribution. I knew today was going to be long so I was setting myself for success, go me!  I feel so on top on things, let's go barrel racing!

I walk out the door and that's when things start going downhill. First, I hear cows mooing. That's not really a big deal. Except that I cannot see them. They have once again, crashed a panel and gotten themselves locked in the old barn. There is no food in there, no grain, no treats and it leaks like a sieve, so it's not a dry place to hang out. Damn cows! I make a mental note to get them out before I leave. I catch all of my 5 year olds with no problems.  But Laynee decides, Not Today Satan! Running, kicking, not gonna be caught! I abandon trying to catch her pretty quickly. I've got other matters to tend to.

I get all the 5 year olds blanketed and ready to load. I decide to release dumb and dumber from the barn and jury rig the panel as a quick solution to the immediate problem. I put some treats in my pocket and Laynee is caught with no issue. OK, back on track.

I load all 4 horses, call for Lucy (the stow away cat), because I saw her milling around my trailer. She comes out of the barn. Crap! Now she's headed for my truck. A quick trip into the house to get some cat food, and back out to the barn. Perfect, cat's accounted for. Into the truck I hop. Just at the precise time I'd planned to leave. Turn the key.... click, click, nothing. Mother Father!!!!

Last month this same thing happened. Yesterday, I decided to fire it up and make sure we were good to go for today. Started right up, no problem. I should also mention, all my help is out of town for the weekend, so I'm on my own. I call Gabe who talks me through properly jumping my truck. Call me spoiled, call me lucky... whatever, I've just never had to do it alone. I closely follow instructions and it works! TaDa! Now I'm good!

I get my phone plugged in, music set up, drinks secure. Look down to see my truck saying, "6 miles to E". Are. You. Kidding. Me??? I call Gabe. I think more for someone to hear my exasperation,  because he can literally do nothing but say, "that sucks, sorry." And he is not wrong. It does suck.

After sitting for a few minutes, both my truck and myself thinking about it, my truck decides,  you know what? I think I can make it 55miles to E. 😁 Great! That's good enough for me! As I leave the driveway, actually, it can make it 106miles to E. Even better white truck but I only need about 20.  Let's go!

I arrive to the round up grounds and it is raining. A miserable drizzle. I pay my fees and really start regretting bringing so many horses. And to think, I almost brought 2 more. Man, I'm clearly a bit of an optimist! I'm glad I didn't.

I clean off my mud encrusted caballos, which is super fun when you are soaking wet. All the hair and dirt transfers from the horses to my coat and face. I bet that's cute! Thank God I'm already married 🤣 I'd never find a husband looking like horsey hobo.

The weather turns off and the sun kind of comes out. This day doesn't suck after all.  My mare, Laynee, made nice runs in both the barrels and poles, placing in the 1D in both. I only rode Justin and Prim and entered them in the futurity time onlys which I was thankful for friends videoing and holding my other horse. Both horses made good runs and progress was made! Wahoo! As for Mazie, I didn't even try to ride her. Just a trip to town to stand and be tied but that's still important in and of itself. Maybe next time for her.

Overall, it ended up being a fine ass day! Moral of the story is, sometimes you are tested to see how serious you are about something. I'd be lying if I didnt say when my truck didn't start, that I didn't think about staying home. When it said it was out of diesel, to unload and put them away. When it was raining, to only ride my open horse and forget about my colts.  It's not easy but nothing that is worth it, ever is. Keep on keeping on.  The only way forward is through!

They Are Only Babies

My husband is always telling me... "If you're going to be in the horse business...."  To which I always reply, "I'm not in the horse business, I'm in the horse hobby." It has never been my aspiration to make a living off my horses. Do I wish they would contribute a little more than they do? Of course! No one has volunteered yet so I'll keep waiting. Maybe one day...🤞

I like to raise my own. Mostly because it allows me to know them and them to know me. I can give you details about every horse on this place, along with histories of their mothers and siblings. I learn all of their quirks and how to approach each one in a way they understand. It takes time and a genuine interest. Horses know what you know and they know what you don't know and they can and will use it against you. So you better spend the time to learn exactly what you're dealing with.

This year, my 1st group of babies are 5. I didn't get to haul or pattern them nearly as much as I would have liked.  At present, they still hollar to each other when one rides away from the trailer.  They paw in or at the trailer with a lack of patience or attention. They spook at sights and sounds they only get to see in town. All of which are amplified with being fresh and full of grain and silliness. And this is annoying. Very annoying. But you know what? They are just babies.

Thankfully, they have improved even with the limited hauling they've gotten. They all load and unload with ease. Which, is not how we started out. I actually dreaded taking them places because of the loading and unloading issues I might have or the fits thrown at or in the trailer while I wasn't present.  But I made myself do it. I forced myself to take them along as frustrated and anxious as it made me. Thankfully, nobody died and they all eventually worked through it, finding I always tried to make their experience consistent, predictable, and enjoyable.

My husband says I spoil them because I always have hay for them, in the trailer or at the trailer. He thinks that what I do doesn't make them learn to load or stand tied without a hay bag in front of them. But I disagree.  They are just babies.  They are learning. They are flight animals, herd animals, and everything we ask them to do is completely unnatural to them. I try to give them comfort in a way they understand to show them that what I'm asking them to do will not hurt them.  Horses thrive on routine, repetition, and consistency.  It's the best way I've found to communicate with them and teach them to trust that I won't put them in a dangerous situation. You have to be the boss but you don't have to be a dictator. You want respect, but you must earn it, not demand it.

Just think of a time you were scared. You had to do something alone, or with people you didn't know. You didn't know what to expect or what would be expected of you and how nervous it made you. Now, imagine the person in charge is yelling at you in a language you don't speak, being physically rough with you, and taking you to places you are unfamiliar with. You don't know how long you'll be there, or when you will eat or drink next.  Personally, that thought gives me serious anxiety and I'm the one with the big, rational brain.

They need to learn to travel alone as well as, together with their buddies. They need to learn that while we ride away and leave the others, we will return. Same for the ones at the trailer. It's a process. It's by no means easy, but it is necessary and takes a lot of time and repetition. And yes, it's very annoying and stressful.

But, I will continue going to town with my young ones. Hollaring, pawing, spooking.... because how else will they learn? It takes a lot of patience, of which is something I'm still personally working on, a deaf ear, and some motivation to do things that drive you nuts because it's all part of the process. After all, they are only babies.

You Aren't Getting Out Alive!

 I haven't really written much this past year. I haven't really felt inspired to. Nothing has really touch my soul enough to express it into words. With all that's going on, the only words that do come to my mind are ones I actually wrote 5 years ago. They are still as relevant now as they were then. 

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Soapbox rant ahead! Life is a risk, nobody is getting out alive! You can't live your life around the 'what-if's' or the freak accidents. They are going to happen whether you try to avoid them or not. If it isn't one you planned for, it will be another you never saw coming.  

We now live in a society that fears death greatly.  So much so, that people live their whole lives trying to avoid it in every single way possible ( honestly believing they can).  Instead of enjoying all life has to offer, they stay within the boundries of safety defined by all those who died before them and those taking measures to never let it happen again. 

I am by no means against safety or trying to not to die. I'm simply saying to enjoy life to it's fullest, there is some risk involved. Some people drive fast,  some people skydive, some people ride horses. You choose the risks your are comfortable or maybe a little uncomfortable taking, to enjoy your time on Earth.

Everybody wants to sit back judge the risks you take in your life to, not only justify that their safe lives are worth living, but that they are somehow better than yours because of it.

 I'm a believer in, when it is your time, it's your time and there's no stopping it. I am going to continue loving and taking care my family, friends, and horses, and enjoy every minute we have together. I will not dwell on all the things that could happen, they are out of my control anyways. I'll do what I feel is right for me and suggest you do the same. Let's leave the judging to Jesus and continue being friends despite the differences in our risk taking.

One of my favorite quotes comes from the cartoon movie, The Croods, "That's not living, it's just, not dying." Be sure you are really living and not just, not dying! 😁

Only Hope Is Stronger Than Fear

 There is so much fear mongering going on in our world right now.

Fear: Being afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening.

Hope: A feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen, a feeling of trust.

"Hope, it is the only thing stronger than fear."

For me, my hope is contained within my all of my horses.

And I have a lot of horses....

My hopes are high and my fears are low.

Be sure you have something that gives you so much hope, that fear is strong armed out.

Wash Your Hands and Say Your Prayers!

I've decided that horse people, specifically Barrel Racers, are not afraid of this virus. Honestly, it's probably the least risky thing we have to deal with.

We swing a leg over  horses that have been sitting too long, full up on fresh green grass, alfalfa,  and grain with every vitamin, mineral, and magic we can sprinkle in, and don't think twice about it. Hell, we probably even acknowledge how stupid of an idea it is. But we do it anyways. If that's not riskier to your life than a virus, I don't know what is!

We casually get into a confined box on wheels with a claustrophobic by nature, flight animal. Hell, we will put 5 more in with them. We go barreling down the highway at 70mph in a one ton truck, drinking coffee, eating on the fly, singing at the top of our lungs, making videos about 'barrel racer' life, and driving through the night to get to a race or rodeo. If that's not more risky to your life than a virus, I don't know what is.

We have cleaned out stalls/horse trailers, brushed off our muddy, poop covered horses, cleaned their feet, thrown hay, and then eaten food ourselves without little more than rinsing our hands in the horse's water bucket and wiping them off on our jeans... if that's not just as risky as a virus, I don't know what is.

If you've ever travelled with rodeo cowboys, hung out in a rodeo beer garden, used a porta-potty at a rodeo, you have already been exposed to far worse things that are riskier to your life than this virus.

Running a barrel horse full tilt on rodeo ground. On wet rodeo ground. On wet rodeo ground in an arena with a slight slope. Virus, danger, what??

It seems to me, as a general rule, most horse people believe in a higher power. After all, some of the stuff we survive can really only be explained by having been clearly saved by something bigger than we are. Some might call it luck. But the people who live this way, know you just can't be lucky that much. We live our daily lives taking so much risk, and we don't even realize it until hundreds of thousands of people freak out about something small. It's actually a big thing, but we don't seem to see it that way.

We live lives of high risk and know, something will kill us. We have actually been in some near death situations and made it through. That's why I think our faith is a little stronger than most. We already live with unpredictability and risk. We are comfortable with it. We respect it. We accept it. We happily coexist with it. Party on Wayne! Party on Garth!

It's just another one of those great life lessons we learn from horses. Here's something that can kill you. It has a mind of it's own. You can make suggestions but if a 1200lb animal decides to disagree, you will not win. They can be unpredictable and react dangerously. You do your best to reduce the risks but ultimately you learn to live with them and enjoy your life and horses around them.

It is not so different with viruses. They can kill you, they have a mind of their own (not really but kinda) you can try protect yourself but if it wants to attack you and has an opportunity, it will. They are unpredictable and dangerous. You can do you best to reduce the risks but ultimately you have to learn to live with them and enjoy your life around them.

 A final thought that seems like the best saying for our current situation... wash your hands and say your prayers, because Jesus and germs are everywhere! Stay as safe as you see fit but live your lives! Party on, friends, party on!

I hate cleaning! I just want to ride!

I hate cleaning. I mean, I like things orderly, in fact, I need them that way to stay sane. But I hate spending my much needed, much anticipated days off, cleaning. Cleaning up other people's messes. I hate it! I just want to ride my horses!

I hate empty promises of getting help to clean up. I hate someone helping to clean and doing a half-assed job. I hate when I get help and it's doing something that is completely useless to the overall cleanliness of the house. I hate to sound ungrateful for the help but I've had this place clean, you know what that looks like, let's shoot for that! Not, "hey this drawer is messy, I'll clean that and spend all day doing it"! Ahhhhh!!! Just go, I'll effing do it myself!

I can't stand clutter. I can't stand messes. But honestly as much of a clean freak as I come off as, I'm really not that bad. I'm not OCD but I do like organization and a basic clean appearance. I also like things to smell good. Is that so much to ask?

And another thing I hate, while I'm on a roll: people using my things. I'm not a complete monster. I'll share. But when someone borrows my shit without asking, loses or damages it, or doesn't return it to its place of origin, I effing lose it. I become the biggest, most selfish brat on the planet. Don't touch my shit. Don't borrow my shit. Don't even look at my shit or I will effing cut you!

Whew, that actually feels better! 😁 I think I'd better go ride now!

Shit Salad

I came home today with every intention to ride. The weather wasn't too miserable, I had enough daylight, and enough time before I had to pick Laramie up from volleyball practice, it was going to work. But lately, every time I try make plans, they turn to crap. When life hands you potatoes, you make potato salad, right? Well, life handed me a pile of shit, what am I supposed to make out of that?? Uhhh, shit salad?? 😂 I'm being dramatic, it's not that bad... but it's not that ideal, so shit salad it is!

So, there I am driving on my road home, doing a visual count of the horses in each pasture as a go by. As I approach what we call the Sorrel Pen, I notice only sorrels in this pasture. And as appropriate as that might sound, it's missing a bay broodmare. She's kind of the odd man out anyways (obviously, she's not sorrel) but I figure she's just behind the shed out of sight. I make a mental note to check for her when I ride by. I do notice the other 3 staring at something towards my grandma's house, but at this moment, I think nothing of it.

That is, until about 3 seconds later I catch out of the corner of my eye, the missing bay broodmare. Just chilling in my grandma's yard, crunching on grass. What. In. The. Hell. How is she out? I figure it's one of two ways, either she went through the fence or over it. Considering the 3 sorrels are still very much in, I entertain the latter. I was really hoping she sprouted wings and Pegasus-ed her way over and didn't manage to hurt herself. But no such luck.

She ended up cutting her back leg  superficially. My back leg injury assessment skills are pretty much on point these days as are my wrapping and doctoring techniques, so do I freak out? No, I do not! This? This is nothing.. Ha! Look at me go! I'm not even worried, all those injuries from last year made me tough, or stupid or so crazy I don't know the difference!!🤪 Whatever it is, I got this.

After I caught her up, I put on my detective hat to figure out where and how this whole fiasco took place. It isn't long before I can see what likely happened. And as it turned out, neither 2 of my initial theories were correct. Instead, it was option 3... under the fence. Running like idiots, she slipped on the snow and mud, sliding into the fence. Now, this is where the magic happens. It is a 5 strand, smooth wire fence. From the best I can figure, when she slipped and fell, she stuck her head and three of her legs between strands 4 and 5. Her other leg went under the 5th. When she popped up on the other side, the leg under the bottom wire was sliced on her way up.

This is not a small mare. She is a pretty good sized gal. How she managed this, is beyond me. The top 3 wires were still 100% tight. The bottom two were stretched but not broken. The 4th strand had popped the staple holding it to the post but the rest were still intact. I don't know how horses can get themselves into these situations. You'd think 1000lb animals on toothpick legs would be a little more interested in self preservation, but they're not.

After I got her all wrapped up, I tried to turn her back out with the friends she so desperately wanted to get back to, only to find those 3 buttholes were plotting to kill her. They immediately start chasing her, running full speed, ears pinned. I'm yelling at them, curse words flying, trying to not get smoked by one as they race by me after her. I'm able to get to her, catch her back up and get back to the gate, even with them circling us like bunch vegetarian sharks.

I decide she will spend the night in the barn, with a companion pony instead. As soon as I get her out of there, those 3 jerks stand at the gate like a little sorrel gang, acting like I was the crazy one. Almost saying, 'C'mon, we were just playing with her, we weren't gonna hurt her......again'. She was upset I took her out and pulled on me the whole way to the barn, wanting to go back. She's only spent the last 3 months with them, not sure why they hate her now, but they do. It's because she's not sorrel, isn't it?? Assholes.

I tucked her into the barn with Rhubarb and they seem to get along just fine. I love having ponies around for this reason. Horses are herd animals, they usually don't like being alone. But sometimes their herd is a bunch of sorrel jerks and they literally will chase you out of their group. So, you get moved to the barn for battered mares and given a companion pony.

2020 wasn't supposed to start like this. This crap was a 2019 thing. But honestly, I'm just glad it wasnt worse when it damn sure probably should have been. I'm also grateful for an injury that I could take care of with my eyes closed. And that! THAT my friends, is how you make shit salad! 💩 🥗 😂