At Least The Horses Had Fun

Those of you who follow me on Facebook know that I’ve been
under the weather for the past 4 or 5 days. Yesterday I thought I finally got on
the better side of it. Today, not so much, although my throat didn’t protest
every single time I swallowed a mouthful of water. I got up at my usual time
and headed out to the barn. It was 62 glorious degrees out and the colors of
dawn lit my way. I had on shorts and a sweat shirt over my tee shirt, which is
typical. I fed the old horse, bunnies and turned the other five horses out
before I started cleaning stalls. Half way through the second stall, I started getting
cold and goose flesh rose up on all my exposed skin. While doing my third and
last stall, I was beginning to wonder if Linda would find me passed out in the middle
of a pile of manure because I was  a  little light headed. My fingers were cold, to the point of going numb. WTF? I  finished as fast as I could and walked up to the house. I was so cold I barely  remember going into the house, wending my way through the throng of dogs that  greeted me, past Linda who was occupied on the computer, and on up the stairs.
My main focus was to get warm. Holy crap! I was shaking, my teeth were
chattering and despite me changing into sweat pants, long sleeve tee, and
sweatshirt, I still couldn’t get warm. Time to call Linda…I haven’t had much of
a voice for three days, but she did understand my mumbled “I can’t get warm.”

Temperature, 95 point something. Hypothermic? Sure as shit
felt like it. Linda stands me up and runs a hot shower. All I can think is “okay,
warm water…but what happens when I have to get out? COLD! F-ing COLD. She
shoves me in and quickly follows. Normally, I’d be happy to shower with her,
but her skin is freakin’ cold! Our shower stall is about the size of a small
closet and I end up pushed against the freaking cold handles. So after a few
minutes now, I’m warm and we get out. I can hardly towel myself dry because,
yup, I’m freakin’ freezing! Linda takes over, dries me, shoves me toward the
bed and she gets in behind me. After about 10 minutes, my body is starting to
calm down…until she decides to warm up my clothes against the two of us. OMG! Linda
eventually gets out and piles enough blankets on me to smother a horse. “You
gotta sweat it out,” she says. Feed a cold, starve a fever? Or is it starve a
cold, feed a fever? Does anybody really know? That commercial went off the air
so long ago I can’t remember what the hell I’m supposed to do. Hell, I don’t even remember what the commercial was for.

Okay…I start to doze a little, snuggled under the 35lbs of quilts, blankets, and I think she piled another mattress on me just to make me stay put. Ten minutes later, I’m pondering the possibility of getting up to drink  some water when I hear Linda’s yell through the now closed and locked tighter than a drum windows. Her voice is laced with panic: Laurie, I
need help! WTF? I stumble out of bed and head downstairs. I’m thinking the
horses got out. Okay, no problem. Sometimes they push through the rope and
graze in front of the barn until I come out, then they walk to me like guilty
little children and follow me back to where they’re supposed to be. Today? Today
they decided it was a great day to run down the middle of the road…and head for
the beach.

Linda picks me up in the car and about a half mile ahead we  see the horses running back and forth across the road. We get up there and park  off to the side…we have to find a parking spot because there are already 5 or 6  cars stopped. I’m out of the car before it comes to a stop. A guy says to me, ‘ya  want some help?’ I know that if he comes into the field with me, all bets are  off….the horses will take off again. “No, just wait till I catch the herd mare.”
Linda wisely stands back and lets me do my thing. I hear the guy asking where
we live and telling her he lived in some house not too far once about a time.
Really? I could care less about the logistics of the neighborhood at this
point. But, at least he stopped and offered to help…which is more than a lot of
people did. I catch Sierra, the leader, and her son, Stetson. Thank god they
have their fly masks on…who the hell had time to grab halters and lead ropes? I
hand those two off to Linda and turn to the other two. Spinner (Linda’s horse, mind you)decides he wants to blaze a new trail through the trees and head back toward home. Ruby, his best bud is  right behind him. You two are idiots, I rasp. I head toward where they went in.  In a few seconds they turn back and walk up to me like it’s feeding time and
they’ve decided it’s time to go home. I let Linda lead the other two in front
of me while I follow with the main renegades. Mind you, she’s in shorts and a
tee shirt…I’m still in my ‘hiking the arctic’ get up complete with my flannel slippers on my feet. Our friendly neighborhood guy drives the car back for us and then slows traffic down as we  march up the road toward home.

I do love my horses, but at that point in time, feeling as crappy as I did, I would have
just as soon grabbed the gun and shot them dead. After the vultures finished
with them I would’ve come back and picked up their bones, fly masks, and bullet
casings. I’m anal enough to always clean up after myself. But who the hell had
time to grab the gun? The damned horses were headed toward the beach!

All of them are grounded to the riding ring for the day. I  went back to bed and let Linda cover me up with the thousand pounds of covers  until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Like I didn’t sweat enough walking down the road trying to keep up with the two idiots in my hands? I still have a headache, but hopefully if I can find reason to relax and drink lots of fluids,  I’ll get rid of that too.


About laurie salzler

novelist, outdoor enthusiast, animal lover, dog trainer
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4 Responses to At Least The Horses Had Fun

  1. Lori L. Lake says:

    Laurie – sorry to hear you’ve been sick. Summer is the worst time for that! Hope you recover fast and are back to writing and causing trouble soon.
    😉 Lori

  2. LOL. Been there and done that. It isn’t funny when it’s happening, but you’ll laugh later. Seems pets always know the worst time to misbehave.

  3. Hope you are fully recovered by now and where can I get your book(s)?

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