Holy Cow

My cowboy had some horses consigned at a sale in Laramie recently. We always arrive the day beforehand to get stalls set up, horses put away, chores done and marketing material out.

Driving long distances is always an adventure anymore with 4 cowpokes in the vehicle. My cowboy took one of the cowpokes and the 8 horses in one rig and I took three cowpokes in my vehicle. Although the littlest poke is by far the easiest he still has some needs that require mom’s attention including his meal planning. He naps well, but the drive while the toddler ‘poke was yelling was unnerving for all of us. The short version was that day turned into a thousand years.

Normally we enjoy food in the big city that we can’t find at any of our local attractions. My cowboy had a ton of chores and visiting with prospective buyers to do, but we still hoped he would join us. The minutes ticked on and he never arrived. This mama was at the end of herself by the end of the day.

I told my cowboy that “tomorrow morning I am going to let the littles run around our place and I don’t think I’m going to make it to the preview.” He was disappointed but understood that keeping the littles content and contained was no easy task. The real problem with this scenario was that I really wanted to be there. Raising a good riding horse literally takes years of investment. My cowboy and I simply do life together - all of it - and I wanted to be there to support him.

Morning rolled around (actually it was more like rolling the rock away from the tomb when Jesus had risen... it was shocking and nobody seemed to have any idea what happened in the night, because the toddler woke up crying six times and the baby three times.) Despite our sleep deprived state, my cowboy and 2 older ‘pokes headed to the sale. I was resigned to my role of caretaker of my (sometimes) sweet littles. But then, I looked myself in the mirror and said that this was not going to be the day to start making excuses for not being present.

I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off and managed to nurse the baby, feed the toddler (although he was running around in his diaper checking the echo and general acoustics of our rental place munching on a breakfast burrito), and get myself ready. I was going for 100% today - I had dressed myself, put make up on, and even curled my hair. I was going to show up in style.

I was feeling pretty pleased with my accomplishment when I arrived at the preview. My cowboy was on a blue roan gelding and as I approached he said, “Holy cow!”

In my mind I was thinking, thank you for noticing! I did put forth a considerable amount of effort in getting here this morning. And… I am trying to look good while I’m doing it. Him giving me a simple praise made my heart flutter a little bit.

The toddler ‘poke started squeaking about something so we started moving to a different location near the arena. Then… all of a sudden… I realized what had just happened. That blue roan gelding was one he had considered purchasing himself last year and he was asked by the owner to ride it this year during the preview.

After a while, I asked my cowboy what he thought of the horse. “Well I told you when you got here, “Holy cow!”” Yes you did babe. Warning ladies: Don’t go looking for a compliment if your husband is in his dreamland on an outstanding gelding, because he very well may just be admiring the horse.