Blitz Here

Hay y'all. Get it?  I said "Hay" and I'm a horse?  Ha!  Did ya get it? Ah, nevermind. 

I wanted to tell you about my trail ride earlier this week.  Mama rode me, of course, and Scotlyn rode Moonshine and we also took the Drurys.  Have you met the Drurys yet?  No big loss.  They're way weird.  They like beagles.  Those are those funny looking dogs, even weirder than Buddy, that chase rabbits.  Rabbits! Can you imagine? 

Anyway, the mama Drury, Pam, rode Diva, and she wasn't none too happy about it. "Why do I always get the old ladies?"  she wanted to know.  She was stomping her feet and wailing and gnashing of teeth.  It was a sight to behold.  I was just standing there, secure in my own world that no one would dare ride me.  A couple weeks ago, the teen Drury girl, Maranda, tried but I sure showed her. I ran her through the cars, then jumped through a mimosa tree.  She got right off mighty quick and I don't think she'll be crossing my personal boundaries again.  I'm a Mama's Boy, make no mistake.

Today, the teen Drury had to ride double on Moonshine, who was as usual in a good mood.  "Isn't this going to be fun?!  We're all going to have a great ride!"

"You're stupid!" snapped Diva.  "It's already 95 degrees out here and still rising.  We're going to get heat stroke and die."

"You don't think I'll sweat and mess up my pretty white coat, do you?"  asked Moonshine.

Diva just laid her ears back in disgust while I flopped mine to the side and dozed, trying to look as much like a half-dead mule as possible. I heard the mama Drury comment that I didn't look nearly as hyper as I had last time she saw me.  My evil plan to lull everyone into a false sense of security is working.

Jane is being ridden by the younger Drury child, Emily.  She's none too happy either.  She's claiming the Equines with Disabilities Act.  "I just lost an eye.  How am I supposed to go on a trail ride?  What if a branch hits me on my blind side?  Or worse, what if one hits my good eye?  I could go completely blind.  This just will not do. I should go home and rest."

I haven't had much to say all morning.  As the only male on this all girl ride, including both riders and horses, I'm feeling rather put out and am reacting in the way all men react when they don't get their way. I'm pouting.

We load up and head out. I must admit, it's a rather pleasant morning.  It's early enough in the day that the bugs haven't woken up yet for their morning bloodfast and the breeze is blowing.  The birds are singing and the sky is blue. I'm practically waxing poetic here, but I do wish my mama would shut up.  All she does is yack yack yack. She and Ms. Pam are comparing childbirth stories. Um, hello....gross!  Can't we just listen to the birds singing?!

Jane broke the diatribe, thank goodness, by deciding that a newly plowed field looked like a great place for a nap, and laid down, Emily and all.  That got the women to quit talking about childbirth for a few minutes while they yelled at Jane to get her stupid carcass off the ground and start walking again.  Jane heaved herself up and shook the dust off, looking mighty pleased with herself.

"What was that all about?" I couldn't help but ask.

She smirked.  "I got them to shut up, didn't I?" 

Maybe she's not so bad after all.

But it didn't last.  Now they started talking about nursing their babies and what size bras they where.  Hae they no pride?!  I'm so glad I'm a man, even if I did have the snip snip surgery done before I was fully a man. Sheesh.

After an hour, Mama looked at her watch and yelped.  "Goodness, we better head back!  I've gotta pick the littles up from music camp soon."  She dug her new handheld gps out of the saddlebags and tried to figure out how to get back to the trailer, but it said to turn around and go back. So she called it stupid and said she knew a better way. We kept going. And getting further from the trailer.

Finally, we got on a road that would take us back to the trailer (it was kind of like taking the short cut through Canada to get to Florida, if you know what I mean), and we were running way late, so we decided a little run might be in order.  I took off like a two dollar pistol and we left the others in the distance.  Mama must be getting immune because I didn't hear her pray or cry or anything, not even once.  She didn't even scream, "I'm too young to die!" or "I'm too old to ride like this".  I was so proud of her.

After I got tuckered out a bit we stopped and waited on the others and Mama went to get the gps out to see how far we'd run.  Well, guess what?  She'd lost the gps because she hadn't zipped the saddle bags. She said we had to go back to get it.  I said "nuh uh" and shook my head.  She said "uh huh" and nudged me ahead with her spurs.  Spurs! What an insult.  I hate that she's gotten wise to my ways.  She made me go all the way back to where we started to get that stupide gps, all because she paid 149 measly dollars for it.  But at least she let me run again.  And we STILL beat all those other slow pokes.

I guess trail rides are pretty fun after all.  I just wish my mama would quit telling her childbirth stories.  It's just icky.