Gay Gray Squirel

One of Little Miss's most favorite songs goes a little something like this...

"Gray squirrel, gray squirrel- shake your fuzzy tail...
Wrinkle up your little nose...
Put a nut between your toooes...
Gray squirrel, gray squirrel- shake your fuzzy tail..."

My mom taught it to her- I, personally think it's a nasty little song. Anyway...

While walking through the yard, my mom (who was ahead of Little Miss & I) saw a very dead, gray squirrel. So she said, "Keep Little Miss over that way- this gray squirrel has lost his fuzzy tail..."

Well, we decided it was a cute story to tell over dinner to my dad. (What? You don't talk about dead squirrels during dinner? Strange.)

I tell my dad the exact story above...and notice during the whole story he's looking at me so oddly.

"And you didn't want her to see the squirrel..." he says.

"No, we thought it might be a little traumatic for her," I told him.

"Uh huh...because he was gay?" he said, being absolutely serious.

"No! Because he was dead!!" I said.

"Well, how'd you know he was gay?!!?"

"GRAY!!"

"Ohhh...that makes more sense."

Oh, Daddy.

I'm Ready

Eight years ago I lost my best friend. He was 26 years old and had been in my life since he was 18. Together I felt like we could conquer the world. I remember visiting the barn who originally rescued him from his abusive home, just 2 weeks after my first horse passed away. (Although Sham was my first horse, she was hardly my best friend. She taught me a lot in the 2 short years we had her, but she was more like a bitchy aunt than a best friend.) I watching him prance and pace back and forth- snorting and stomping. He seemed kind but nervous and scared. It was obvious that he needed someone to love him- as he was only about 900lbs. (Considering his height, he only a few days away from dying had he not been found.)

A few weeks after we brought him home, I came inside crying. I told my mom and dad that Brandy would never love me like Sham did. (The previous owner was an alcoholic and named him after the liquor.)

I ran inside crying because Brandy wouldn't stay in his stall with me while he ate his dinner. It broke my heart that he didn't trust me....and in my 10 year old mind, I thought he never would.

A few months later, Brandy trusted me to not only stay in the stall with him while he ate- but to sit on him while he laid down in the backyard to rest. From then on, the trust I had for him and the trust he had for me was endless.

August 16th, 2001- after several days of heartbreak, I lost my best friend. The doctor's told us it was kidney failure. I found Brandy laying in the backyard a few days before & he wasn't able to get up. I pulled and begged him- please don't give up- until he finally got up...for me. The next few days we tried to keep him comfortable and cool, as it was unbearably hot. We'd been in the barn with him constantly- between me, my mom & Missy- I don't think he was alone at all over those few days. Somehow, we'd all come inside- one to nap, one to use the bathroom, etc. That's when it happened. He had a nosebleed- and I found traces of his blood on the chair I was sitting on and all the way up to the stairs leading into the house. He was looking for me.

We found him laying in the entryway to his stall- his body still warm. I laid down beside him and prayed that he would visit me in my dreams. And he does.

I didn't know if I would ever be ready to have my own horse again. My heart still hurts as bad as it did on that hot day in August when I lost my boy- but now, I'm ready to put my trust in another equine...and I think I've found just the perfect one, who needs my trust as much as I need his.

Introducing: WhatUSeeIsWhatUGet AKA: Storm

"Let's get the new guy!""See...told you if we just ignored him, he'd go away...""Ugh! Who made eye contact?! RUN!"So far he seems to be adjusting pretty well to his new home and new friends. Hopefully the "hazing" will end soon & he will be able to join the herd. ;)

And yes, he's a North Carolina horse. Little Miss are heading back that way on Wednesday.

A True Cowgirl

A true cowgirl always wears all her bling, leopard and rides with her cellphone handy...always.


...a true cowgirl can also be seen wearing her riding clothes all day- dirty or not. ;)

Best Friends

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Cowgirls Don't Cry

I tend to clean to country music- I try not to sing along, but most of the time after humming the words quietly for threw a few songs...I simply turn into Reba McEntire.

This morning while I was cleaning the kitchen and fixing Little Miss an early lunch- she began demanding chicken nuggets and fries at about 10:55am- the song that always gets me came on the CMT countdown. Brooks'n'Dunn's "Cowgirls Don't Cry" gets me every time- no matter how many times I listen to it, the song will always end with me in tears.

It reminds me so much of my dad and I. He taught me how to ride- he taught me not to cry over the small stuff because nothing was worth my tears. I can hear him saying, "Don't cry, honey" as I type this.

This was the first time I'd actually allowed myself to watch the video- the song tears me up so bad, I figured the video would cause a serious meltdown. Not only did it remind me of my dad and I...but it was us- and at the end (except for the father passing away) it was me and Little Miss.

Here, just watch it... ;)