That Week When Life Was Out to Get Me

Life was out to get me

A few weeks ago, life was out to get me.

Or just bruise the heck out of me.

Or, I’m gettin’ old.

It may be that last one.

It was a sunny fall day and Abigail and I had gone back to Buffalo Valley (our last home on the ranch) to check on horses we had still turned out on pasture. Not all of these horses were ours.

That information will be important soon enough.

We used a bucket of grain to entice the horses to come to us so we could check them all out.

This practice can be good and bad. We have huge pastures, most are twenty plus acres, so it’s handy when the horses come to us instead of visa versa. However, horses can come running up close and personal and you can find yourself surrounded while they push and shove each other to get a taste of the grain.

Hint on where this story is going.

Abigail and I had caught (i.e put a halter on) the couple of horses we were after but the rest of the herd was following along. Too closely. In a flash I noticed I was in the wrong spot and before I could finish the thought of, “Hmmm, I should probably get outta here” The lead rope ran through my hand as my horse got out of Dodge and another horse came running right over the top of me.

Right over the top of me.

It was as if my body was a rug laid out just for him, to protect his hooves from the dirt below.

He was gone and I sat up. My sweatshirt was torn, I had dirt on my face, I could feel the left side of my face and lip swelling, and my right foot was pounding. I had stickers on my shirt and in my hair. Wait, my hair? Didn’t I have a hat on? I scanned the ground and found my ball cap.

I stood up, limped over to Abigail, who was holding both horses and staring at me wide-eyed. Looking at her, looking at me answered any questions I might have about how I looked.

Long story short, we finished up with the horses and drove an hour home.

I limped around for a few days. My lip and foot were black and blue and I was sporting a few lovely bruises that proclaimed a spectacular array of the colors of the rainbow.

On the first day that I was actually less sore than I had been in days, I was hanging out in the kitchen with Carley. She was making cupcakes and I was watching and chatting with her. She preheated the oven, sprayed her muffin tins with nonstick cooking spray, and whipped up her batter.

Just as she was about to start spooning batter into her tins, I glanced out the window and saw cows heading toward the open gate in front of our house.

“Aaagghh! I gotta close the gate!” I yelped.

I took off hobbling/running through the kitchen, curving behind Carley to get to the front door.

Now, all would have been well and good if Carley had not been making her cupcakes on Instagram Live and hadn’t held up her tins in the air for her audience to see while she sprayed them.

There was a lovely, non-stick, but oh-so-slick coating of Canola oil right where I was hobbling/running.

My feet flew out from under me like a cartoon character and BAM! My entire body hit the floor all at once with a thud. Right on some of my most colorful bruises.

“Mom! Are you okay?” Carley gasped. Once again, a daughter looking at me with wide eyes.

“Fine”. I could hardly get it out because I was half-laughing, half-crying, trying to peel myself off the floor.

“Oh good, because that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen and I just can’t not laugh.”

And then she did.

For a full five minutes. She couldn’t talk, barely breathed, just howled with laughter.

Of course the cows never came in the gate, just walked right past.

And my colorful bruises were even more colorful.

I told you life was out to get me.


**Sing to the tune of Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer:**

Mom got run over by a ranch horse

Then…she biffed it on the floor.

You may say she must be one tough cookie.

But now she’s laid up on the couch, pretty sore.

Pre-tty sore.



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