Four legged toddlers

I have often shook my head and thought "you (insert horse's name) are like a 1200lb. toddler!". Today Katie proved she was a toddler, albeit not 1200lbs. The horses were out in the yard with the pasture gate up top open so they could come in and out. Fairly normal however you have to keep an eye on them (read Katie) because the barn is also right there. She's been known to go in there when you aren't looking and poke around the stalls (not her own mind you) for food (she's starving, poor girl). If I close the top gate and open the bottom gate they can't get to the barn just the bottom yard, however that's hardly the point, today they had full yard rights.

I looked up from the house to see where they were at and I see Brody standing in front of the barn peering in. This can only mean a few things, there is a monster in the barn getting ready to pounce, Katie is in his stall eating his left over hay (he eats slow and always has left overs from breakfast), or Katie is attempting to open one of the grain bins and Brody is in awe.

As it turned out, Katie had used the few minutes she had to sneak in there to open Austin's bin. Austin gets a senior grain (read super yummy if you're a horse), Katie does not get a senior grain.

Up we go to investigate and Leo, of course, MUST be involved in scooting Katie out of the barn which means Leo caused more trouble then help. All you have to say is "No (insert any other animals name)" and Leo is on spot. I do think he is trying to say "Hey she said no, stop, whoa, ho, hey, back up, or something so you better listen!". God forbid I say "No, Katie." Leo and Katie have a love hate relationship, always have. So, we have Leo expressing himself, barking, running in a circle that makes no sense to anyone but him, and randomly crouching down in front of me for good measure. Katie, lady that she is, has decided that cooperating isn't happening, going in the pasture (even though she was caught red handed) is not in her plans, and trots up the hill. She shook her head at Leo for good measure, she did not toss her head, she shook it up and down right in his little face. It's her "get the heck away from me stupid dog, I have never liked you and only allow you to live cause she seems to" nod.

At the top of the drive, a short walk at best, I get a rope on Katie and promise to kick Leo's little ass if he doesn't stop bothering her so much and walk down to the barn. You'd think that's that. No, Leo decides that perhaps Katie didn't hear him so he barks again, Katie nods (I'm holding her), I yell at him, remind her she isn't walking alone, and in her stall she goes.

Right about the time we get Captain Mouth on his rope, and Katie in the pasture, I wondered why in the heck I decided these overgrown (in both instances) toddlers were a good idea.

By the time I latched the gate and untied Captain Mouth I was wondering how to explain to Leo and Katie that the life they took for granted would be paradise for an animal that has no home; the minute I wondered that I remembered that it was a good thing they didn't speak English because, goodness knows, guilt as a tool rarely works!

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Qualifications & televised funerals

I like to think of this blog as the soft and safe place where I can express how much love I have for the animals, how they changed my life, and all that touchy feely stuff that I love so much, without feeling like a tree hugging, animal loving, freak of nature. Here I can admit things like 'riding is secondary to me, sort of a bonus' and not feel like a sub par horse person. It's like my electronic 'happy place'. I try not to bring negative into my happy little electronic world, as a result there is very little in the way of political beliefs, religious beliefs, current events and/or my thoughts on them. Mostly I think our country has lost its collective mind so any discussion surrounding the same would certainly bring negative to my touchy feely blog.


That's quite possibly the best qualification for breaking my own rules that I've come up with (in awhile). 


Whitney Houston died the other day; no, I honestly don't recall which particular day it was and I am steadfastly refusing to google it for accuracy because you know what? I don't really care. Had it not turned into a national flippin' holiday I might have a bit more in the way of sympathy however it has, without surprise, turned into an event so epic to the citizens of this country members of our government are ordering flags flown at half staff/mast (whichever you prefer). Now, when you say something like that out loud, and I am sure I am not the only one disgusted with this mess, people think you are cold and all kinds of other nifty adjectives. 


Of course it's sad that she died. My goodness sake, it is sad when anyone dies as a result of substance abuse and, drum roll please, that is precisely what happened to her. Lets pretend that we have paid any mind to the woman in the last ten years and she had continued to make music we all bought and loved. Lets even pretend that her music was so touching, so inspirational, it altered life views for troubled souls. Lets forget that her biggest hit was a god damn Dolly Parton cover. Does an entertainer deserve the same honor as a fallen soldier, a world leader, a civil rights leader, etc? Really? Isn't there something biblical out there about false idols? I'm breaking the no politics rule, may as well break the no religion rule. 


I'm not afraid god is going to strike the US dead cause we are stupid enough to put our stock in entertainers and money making machines, I am afraid that the good old US is gonna shoot all of our feet clean through the middle if we don't get our collective heads out of asses of the rich and famous. Corporate America or Hollywood Idols, it's the same same. We really ought to be worried about the fate of the generations following us. If our priorities are this far out of whack now, what in the hell will they be like in twenty years? I have a grandson, I worry.


Yesterday I got wind of an Arab that had suffered the same circumstances that Brody suffered. Abandoned, left to starve, through no fault of her own. She was rescued. 


On February 11th Army Pfc. Cesar Cortez, 24, of Oceanside, Calif., died in Bahrain, through no fault of his own. He was not rescued.


While I am sure a flag flew somewhere for Private Cortez, I am equally sure our nation, as a whole, did not honor his contributions to the same.


For that we ought to be ashamed, as a whole, as a nation, as a society, as human beings. 

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2012/02/18/3436856/military-deaths.html#storylink=cpy

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Dogs, horses, Law & Order, oh my!

Earlier in the day a friend of mine called and remarked that she was not too pleased with herself currently (just for today). After she explained why, I could and did, tell her that I understood exactly what she meant. I thought for a quick second to add "I went through it and it passes" or something to that effect when I realized that this process of change and adjustment doesn't really pass, it just changes.

I still have days when it's all just overwhelming and certainly days when I wake up and think "really Carol, really?". I've often joked about how certain people who know me probably think I lost my mind when I lost my job and decided to refuse any possibility of reentering Corporate America. Truth is there are days when I wonder if I've lost my mind, today was one of those days.

I hung up the phone and went about thinking about prioritizing my list of things to do. I've decided to write as a freelancer (resumes, content articles etc...) that being the case, I've been collecting and creating samples. My list of things to do included a multitude (ok only a few) of articles, two resume re-writes, and the completion of a website. I made this list of things to do. This list was not overly ambitious. Still, I sat there and it felt downright suffocating. I did what anyone trying desperately to be a grown up would do, I turned on Law and Order and cuddled with the dog. Don't worry, I set a limit for this bout of "Really Carol?? Realllllllly?", I didn't even use all of my allotted time. I did close my eyes, I did take great comfort in the warmth of Poncho curled up next to me, I also wondered why in the hell I was so determined to not turn back into the Carol I was before I was kicked off the island.

I think I started to realize that I was existing, not living, right about the time Leo came into my life. Leo is three, I am slow. I didn't make a decision to change until Leo was about six months old; I had lost my favorite aunt and my oldest brother, the farm house came available, and the horses entered my life. I spent the next two years talking myself down; work to support your life, do not live to support your work, was the general idea. As it turned out the more talking I did to myself, the closer I got to the peace that resided in the barn. With each tail I brushed, each bucket of beet pulp prepared, each stall that Leo and I cleaned (yes he helps), and every evening spent listening to the music of munching hay, I came closer to me. I'd shovel shit and wonder why I never realized how badly I needed peace in my life. I'd spend hours researching beet pulp; to soak or not to soak, warm or cold, etc... and wonder why in the hell I thought software was ever a good idea. I lost a little bit of faith in my choice of profession with each instance, beet pulp or otherwise, I just didn't know what to do about it. I really didn't do much about it; I cut my hours back and tried to talk myself out of the belief that only a slacker works eight hour days. Apparently my bosses agreed :-) Actually that's crap, I made too much money and I was no longer devoting my life to my work, on top of it I was constantly calling out my boss, whom I had interviewed and approved off prior to his being hired, for under utilizing my talent and consequently "Wasting company resources". Yes, I said that to him and on more than one occasion. Looking back I am certain I had a lot more to do with my island departure than I like to admit. I was right, he was under utilizing me, he didn't know what to do with me, he had blown the chance to do what we intended when he was hired with the idea that I move away from general support management and into a deeper technical role, I should not have stated that over and over. It was probably the equivalent of career suicide. I wonder if I had any idea what I was setting up for myself.

Since then it's been one change after the next, one reevaluation after then next, one examination of motive after the next. The only thing that holds true is the refusal; at times, seemingly fruitless, frequently frustrating, mostly unprofitable, and worrisome more times than not, it's still better than the alternative. Even when that means forgiving a mid-afternoon, completely unproductive hour on the couch, with the dog tucked in close because nothing else seems possible.

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