Jesus, Horses, Friends, and Family

Valentine’s Day sucks.  I’m not saying that just because I am single and I wish I had someone to pamper me and spoil me on Valentine’s Day.  I actually truly dislike what it has become for several reasons.  The first reason being because I feel that if you love your significant other, than you tell them all the time.  You don’t make a big deal out of it just because it’s Valentine’s Day.  I also hate that everyone makes such a big deal out of it on social media.  Tell me, what is the point of posting pictures of your flowers and chocolate and dinner for everyone to see?  I feel that Valentine’s day should be personal!  I agree that it is a day to make your loved ones feel extra special!  But I think that you should keep it personal!  That is what’s wrong with couples today!  They spend so much time boasting about their significant others on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and probably a bunch of other sites that I know nothing about, that they forget to actually spend time on their loved one!  It’s not about boasting to the world how lucky you are…it’s about making sure that the one you love knows how lucky you are! 

 

So there I was on Valentine’s Day, not only lonely because everyone was busy trying to prove their love to the men or women in their lives, but also terribly bummed because I received the call at 7 in the morning that my puppy had died sometime in the night.   I spent the day trying to find someone…anyone…to come hang out with me and play in the sunshine.  It was a little windy so trying to find a non-fair weather cowboy to come rope the sled with me was proving to be difficult.  I ended up giving up and just riding my horse and ponying my colt around.  There is only so much of that you can do before they can’t take anymore so I found myself really struggling to find things to do to beat the boredom.  I roped the sled.  I did the dishes.  I did chores.  I played with the remaining puppies.  I went and got my nails done.  I went and picked up something for dinner.  Then, I pulled a totally cliché single-girl-on Valentine’s Day-move and bought a pint of Ben and Jerry’s cheesecake ice cream, four hilarious anti-love movies, and then went home and pigged out in the dark alone.  Rad. 

Basically, Friday sucked for me.  I woke up Saturday morning with a much better attitude and text my old roommate.  At first, we had considered going to a BBQ…but then, it got decided that she would come down and we would make a day of roping the sled, drinking a few beers, and then going on a girl date to sushi.  We even had some boy company while roping the sled, so it wasn’t a bad day at the office.  As a matter of fact, it was a pretty great day.  Sunday morning rolled around and I decided to go to church.  I haven’t been in a few weeks and I knew that I needed to feed my soul with a little love from Jesus.  The message I received was awesome!  The topic of the sermon was Matthew 11: 28-30

28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

That really hit home for me.  This last week or two has been kind of difficult.  I have been taking a lot on and putting a lot of blame on myself for things that weren’t going as planned.  It’s easy for a person who cares too much to carry an unnecessary burden.  I have a huge heart and I am extremely loyal…but not all people that I meet in life are going to be like me and I have to quit expecting them to be!  I have a tendency to worry a lot about things that are completely out of my control.  It can be really hard for me to “come to Jesus” and let him carry the weight of my burdens.  But Matthew 11 doesn’t say let Him carry your burdens…it says “take my yolk upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will receive rest for your souls.”  Our preacher explained this very well.  He used oxen as the example, but I am going to use cowdogs because they are more familiar to me. When you work cattle with dogs you usually have an old, experienced cowdog that knows exactly what to do.  When you get a new pup, one of the best ways to train him is to tie him to your old dog.  He learns to be more like the old dog because he is working so closely beside him.  If you walk closely beside Jesus, you learn to be more like Him and that is the ultimate goal in life, is it not?  Perhaps it’s not letting Jesus carry your burdens that you need to worry about, but being more like him so that your burdens are light.  Something to ponder.

So after church, I went back home.  I had a lady coming to pick up a puppy and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the rest of my day.  It was pretty windy still and I figured my horses could use a rest.  After re-homing one puppy, I decided to haul the other one down to the arena for the high school rodeo.  I was positive that I could find her a home there.  I’m not sure why it never crossed my mind that my cousins would be there, but they were.  What a blessing to be able to spend my Sunday not only with Jesus, but also with family!  Before I moved out here, I hadn’t seen my cousin, Micah, in probably close to 15 years.  I never had the pleasure of meeting her kids or her husband.  But since moving out, they have never hesitated to treat me like family and the more time I spend with them the more thankful I am to have them in my life.  Her husband is wonderful and her kids are some of the neatest kids I have ever met.  I really couldn’t have asked for a better weekend!  I sent my youngest cousin out with the puppy telling him that if he got her sold, he would get a commission…and I’ll be damned if he didn’t get it done!  He is one determined kid!  I was pretty proud of him (and super thankful that I didn’t have to take my last puppy home)!

It’s now Monday.  I am still continuing to make progress with my horses.  Roping the sled on Solo gets better and better.  I am looking forward to the beautiful forecast that lies ahead and hoping that I get to put him behind some cattle again in the next couple of days.  There is a buckle roping nearby this coming Sunday and if all goes as planned, I would love to enter in my first jackpot on the horse that I have worked so hard on.  I also have been keeping an eye out for a second head horse.  Soon, I will be able to afford a new one and I am looking forward to taking it a little easier on Solo and having another horse that I can reliably haul to jackpots.

I would like to announce that for those of you who added prayers for rain in California to your prayer list, our prayers have in fact been answered!  While it is still not enough, it is better than none at all!  As always, I thank you for your continued support and kind words.  May your days be sunny, your horses be fast, and your ropes catch everything you throw at!      

When a Good Day Goes Bad

Dry Sliding, 2 year old filly

Yesterday should have been a great day.  The weather was gorgeous for the first time in what seems like ages.  I woke up with these big plans to get up, ride my horse, rope the sled, and then hopefully go rope out at the cowboy church.  Unfortunately, it didn’t really work out that way.  It seemed like no matter which way I turned yesterday, I found drama.  I experienced a lot of “he said, she said” problems and by the time noon rolled around, I wanted to break my phone.  I decided my best bet was to sit in the sun and try to enjoy the last half of my day.

Besides my good horse, Solo, I also have a two year old filly named Sly.  She is a Dry Doc filly that I got for extremely cheap as a long yearling.  Despite growing up on a ranch and messing with a lot of young horses, I have never started a colt on my own from the ground up.  She was supposed to be my first but I’m pretty sure with my lack of time and the fact that I have been working diligently to finish Solo out as a head horse, I will probably send her out this spring for a couple of months.  I really haven’t done much with her in the year that I’ve had her, but she sure is a pretty cool little filly.  Yesterday, I decided to jerk her out of her pen, saddle her, and attempt to pony her for the first time. She typically throws a bit of a fit when you first saddle her, but she has been getting better and better every time.  She has been sacked out a ton, you can throw the blankets on her with no problem at all, but when you attempt to throw the saddle on her, she boogers, pulls back, and throws a little fit.  My patience isn’t near enough to deal with that most days…hence the reason I will probably send her out this spring.  But apparently, she has grown up a little bit these last few months. I brushed her, threw the blankets on her, and when I threw my ranch saddle on her, I was surprised when she stood there like a wooden indian.  I tied her over in one of my empty pens and saddled up Solo. 

I really wasn’t sure how ponying her was going to go.  She can be so good, but she is a baby and sometimes they just act ridiculous.  I could just see her jerking away from me and running off down the road saddled.  And I know that while Solo is pretty strong, if she wanted to set back hard, she could probably jerk him down.  I tested the waters in a small pen and it looked like things were going to work out pretty well so we ventured out into the great, wide open.  She wanted to hang back a little bit so I just dallied up and drug her along for a while.  At a walk, she was fine.  But once I tried to get her into a trot¸ she started really dragging.  She tried to choke down a few times, something that I’ve seen her do several times since I’ve owned her.  She picks up things pretty quick, but she can be a stubborn little thing when she wants to be.  I felt my patience wearing very thin.  I gave her some slack and prepared Solo for a big jerk.  I urged him forward and when she hung back I gave Solo a kick and he jerked her ahead, causing her to jump right into the back of him. We walked a little ways and as soon as she started to get tight on her lead rope, I’d give her another big jerk ahead.  Every time she jumped ahead I would give her some slack, showing her that as long as she stayed beside me, she wouldn’t choke down.  After doing that about four or five times, she figured it out.

"Sly" when I first bought her

I clicked my tongue at her and away we went at a lope.  She was perfect.  Picked up her leads easily and never got stupid.  We loped a few big passes around the hay field both directions and then headed back to the house.  I was very satisfied with her and I have high hopes for her in my string.  I just hope and pray that she gets as big as I’d like her to get. She has gotten to be pretty good sized and has a really nice, big hip on her, but she is still pretty narrow.  I think because she is such a foundation bred horse that perhaps she will fill out a lot more as she gets older.  That’s what I’m hoping for anyway!

I decided that since Solo had a pretty hard workout, I would call it a day.  I was hoping I could get someone to come over and pull the sled around for me, but everyone was busy so I just dinked around the house doing chores.  I had my few remaining puppies out running around with me and we were all playing in the sun and life was good.  I walked out to get the mail and as I was walking back I heard one of them crying.  I ran to the back of the house and saw that my favorite pup was standing there with a big hump in his back, unable to walk.  My heart sank.  I knew that he had been stepped on by my old horse.  I dropped everything, put the other two pups away, and hauled ass to the vet.  My gut feeling told me that it was bad. He didn’t have any abrasions, but his breathing was very labored and he was going into shock. The vet did an x-ray finding no broken bones.  They said they needed to give him fluids and a steroid shot to see if he would come out of the shock.  If he did come out of it, he most likely did not have internal bleeding.  Twenty minutes later, he seemed to be making an improvement. They decided to keep him overnight for observation.  At seven this morning, the vet called to tell me he had died in the night. 

He wasn’t my puppy and I had no intention of keeping him.  But I had raised him.  I watched him be born, watched him grow for nine weeks, and I was extremely picky about who his forever family would be. I prayed a lot that I would find him an amazing home where he would be treated like family and not just like a dog.  In the end, he got hurt under my supervision and that broke my heart.  Death, in any capacity, is pretty hard for me to handle.  I’m feeling better as the day goes on, but my heart is still pretty heavy when I think about his little face and how short his life was.

As I sat in that vet office yesterday, I couldn’t help but think of the best dog that I ever had.  I said goodbye to her a week before I moved to Texas and still to this day, I tear up when I think about her.  She was a Queensland Heeler/Jack Russell cross that I had arranged for. I set up the two dogs through an ex-boyfriend and a good friend of mine with the agreement that I would get a pup out of the deal.  I had initially picked out a white male, but when I went to pick him up, I fell in love with the rambunctious, onery little female. I named her Annie Oakley…Annie for short, which later got changed to “Brain” because she was so incredibly smart.  That dog went with me everywhere for 5 years. Although I loved her more than anything in the world, she was a pain in the ass.  She was sneaky and would bite the shit out of people when they least expected it.  She got me in trouble more times than not and I absolutely could not take her around kids.  She hated kids. 

Annie, AKA "The Brain"

But she was a funny little dog.  She was full of life, bursting with energy, and overflowing with intelligence.  For the most part, she was a good dog.  You could keep her in the house for four days and she would never potty on the floor.  She stayed by my side through thick and thin.  And as long as she was around, I knew that there wasn’t a soul alive that could hurt me.  She was my right hand, my best friend.

I was working two different jobs bartending to save money so that I could move to Texas.  It had been rainy and cold so I left her in the house before I went to my second job of the day. I had given her a cookie before I left the house and was somewhat surprised that she didn’t gobble it up right away.  If you even mentioned the word “cookie”, she usually went apeshit so I was slightly concerned by her unusual actions.  When I got home late that night, she didn’t greet me at the door like normal. I walked over to see that her cookie was still on the kitchen floor, untouched.  I called for her, but she never came. I felt an overwhelming sense of fear come over me.  There was definitely something wrong. I walked back into my bedroom to find her lying on my bed.  She had a guilty look on her face and I noticed she had peed on the floor. 

Brain with Santa (before she started biting everyone)

“Did you do this?”  I asked her.  Usually when I asked her that, she would look away from me very guiltily.  She just sat there, looking at me with so much pain in her eyes. I called her down off my bed and put her outside.  When I let her in, I gave her some food and water but she wouldn’t eat or drink.  I called my mom and decided that I would take her to the vet first thing in the morning if I didn’t see any improvement.  That night, she slept on my bed.  When I woke up, I saw that she had peed right where she had been lying.  I hauled her to the vet with more fear and sadness in my heart than I can even put into words.  After examining her, the only thing the vet could conclude was that she was, in fact, a very sick little dog.  But, he didn’t know why or what was wrong so they needed to run several tests.  I took her home and as the day went on, she got sicker and sicker.  She started vomiting and soon the vomit turned to blood.  The next morning the vet called with her blood results.  Her kidneys had failed and she would need to be put down.

It felt like someone shot me in the heart. I cried and cried, but I couldn’t make the pain go away. My best friend drove the Brain and me down to the vet and we both cried as I held her in my arms and watched her take her last breath.  How was I supposed to move halfway across the country without her? Since I graduated college, she was the only friend that I could truly rely on to be there for me through everything.  We had moved all over, been through breakups together, seen a hell of a lot of country together…she was always there to comfort me and she loved me unconditionally. The vet made it clear that it was not my fault and there was nothing that I could have done differently, but you always wonder. To this day, I can’t figure out why death has to be so damn painful.  Everyone who reads this blog knows how much faith I have in the Lord and that I know that when we die, we are finally sent HOME.  Home to heaven where there is no pain or anguish. Home:  where we can finally be at peace. But that sure doesn’t make it much easier for those of us that are left behind.

I’ve dealt with a lot of loss in my life.  Be it a human or a pet, it still hurts and is hard to overcome.   Ecclesiastes 3:19-20 says, “For what happens to the children of man and what happens to the beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and man has no advantage over the beasts, for all is vanity. All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return.”  All dogs go to Heaven.  All horses go to Heaven.  Someday we’ll all meet again. 

I’m going to clear my head today, ride my horses, and hopefully find a spot to rope this afternoon!  I'm going to use this pain and hurt to drive me forward in life, not hold me back or hinder me in any way.  We all suffer from grief at some point. While it is tough to overcome, we have to use that pain for a greater good.  Understand that those that we love who have moved on, are in a better place.  They are watching over us and the last thing that they want to see is their loved ones struggling to overcome the sadness and not living their own lives to the absolute fullest.  I pray that all who read this have a wonderful day today!  May your skies be sunny, your horses be well behaved, and your ropes have a lot of catch in them!! Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day to all you lovers out there. 

Life's a Mother....

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday.  I have spent a lot of time talking about my dad and what an amazing influence he has been on my life, but I really feel like I need to take this time to give my mom some credit as well.  After all, I am half of her and half of my dad, so she is an enormous part of who I am today.  My mom grew up in Southern California.  Most people who think of Southern California think of palm trees and movie stars.  Well, that’s not exactly how it used to be.  My mom grew up in a small town called Castaic. Her mother’s side of the family was Basque (Spanish Sheepherders) and owned and operated a large brickyard and ranch.  My grandma was an avid rider and excellent cowgirl.  My grandpa’s side of the family was from Laguna Beach originally and moved to Castaic later on.  My grandpa was a cowboy and his family built a roping arena and started the Castaic Saddle Club.  Celebrities such as James Caan roped there regularly.  Grandpa met and fell in love with grandma…and here we are!  So, like my dad, my mom grew up on horses in a western upbringing.

My mom (maybe 25 yrs old)...Look at lil me on top of the truck! :)

My mom moved to Sierra Valley when she was 20 years old to live with my grandpa who owned a house and some property there.  It was shortly after that she met my dad and two years later, something epic happened…I was BORN!  My mom and my dad were pretty much exactly alike.  Both were extremely hard-headed and stubborn, passionate, smart, funny, and very strong willed.  But, they were too much alike.  While their love for each other was as deep as the oceans, they had a really hard time getting along.  It didn’t help that my dad was alcoholic and pretty darn tough to get along with for a long time...and my mom had problems of her own.  They were pretty young when they met, got married, and had me.  By the time I was five years old, they had decided to call it quits.  By that time, my grandma (mom’s side) had moved just down the street from my dad’s house.  My mom had taken a job as a trail guide in a town about an hour and half away, so I lived with her and my aunts and uncles for several years.

Mom and me at Disneyland

Growing up, I couldn’t understand things, and it took me a long time to forgive both of my parents for leaving me at my grandma’s house.  Don’t get me wrong…I did not have a bad upbringing at all.  I grew up in a huge family with a ton of people who loved me more than anything in the world. I was the baby of the entire family and quite frankly, I was pretty spoiled.  Not materialistically, but spoiled with love and affection.  However, despite the constant love from many, I couldn’t understand why my parents couldn’t make things work…why we had to be divided.  I later learned that after my mom and dad had split, she had become involved with someone who hurt her both physically and emotionally.  She wasn’t with me because she couldn’t be, not because she didn’t want to be. 

Eventually, my mom came home.  Things were not always easy.  She was a single mom trying to raise a very independent daughter.  My dad, though I loved him more than words could ever express, had no idea how to raise a little girl so I rarely spent more than a week with him at a time.  My mom did everything she could to keep food on the table and me in the best clothes. Often times she worked two jobs.  When I was around 13 or 14 years old, she took a job as a welder and became a journeyman for the union…an industry where you don’t see a whole lot of women.  Not only was she a woman welder, but she was an exceptionally talented woman welder.  Eventually it took a toll on her and her health really started to deteriorate.  By the time I was in my early 20’s, she had developed osteoporosis to the point where she was breaking bones regularly.  Eventually, she was put on permanent disability due to her condition. 

Thanksgiving 2012

I knew my mom was very ill for some time, but I was unaware of just how ill she really was.  A year and half ago, I received a call from my aunt saying that she had been hospitalized. It was the day before my dad’s memorial team roping.  I hustled home, not knowing what exactly had happened.  When I got to the hospital, I found her completely unrecognizable and totally incoherent.  It was then that I realized that I may lose my mom as well.  I have never been so scared in my entire life.  I had already had to bury one parent.  How was I supposed to make it through life without both?  So many things ran through my mind that weekend.  I had a million regrets.  I regretted being such a bratty daughter.  I regretted the millions of fights that we’d had.  I regretted spending so much time grieving over one parent and not appreciating the parent that I had left.  My mom was my rock my entire life.  She was there for me when not another soul was around.  I could always rely on her to be on my side no matter how wrong I might be.  She pissed me off a lot and we struggled not to fight and argue most of the time, but the only reason it was like that was because we were exactly alike…just like her and my dad!

My mom pulled out of her illness.  She took all the necessary steps to leading a healthy lifestyle and now she is feeling better than ever.  It hasn’t always been rainbows and puppy dogs for me and her, but I wouldn’t trade her for any other mother in the world!  My dad may have been Superman in my eyes, but my mom blew Wonder Woman out of the water.  My mom is Xena, Wonder Woman, Catwoman, Barbie, and Mrs. Ingalls all wrapped into one.  Words cannot express how thankful I am to have her in my life and how much I appreciate every single sacrifice she has ever made for me.  She may have made some mistakes, but everyone does.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there is and was only one perfect being and that is Christ our savior.  Every single living, breathing creature on this planet was created in his image and is therefore perfect in their own way.  If my mom wouldn’t have gone through the struggles that she did, I would not be the woman that I am today.  I have learned a lot from her.  I have received all of her best traits and maybe a few of her worst ones!  Either way, I am the product of both of my parents.  I am hard-working, honest to a fault, independent as hell, tough as nails, stubborn as bulldog, relentless, outgoing, loving, caring, intelligent, street smart…and I never give up.  When I hear that I can’t do something, I prove that I can.  It’s hard to prove me wrong even when I know you’re right.  If I believe in something, I believe in it with all my heart.  I put 100% of myself into everything that I do, so when something doesn’t go as planned, I’m usually extremely disappointed.  Every single one of these traits are ones that I got from BOTH of my parents.

September 2012

I sit around and think about them both all of the time.  Neither one of them ever remarried.  Perhaps they were the loves of each others lives.  Or maybe we are all just so stubborn and hard-headed that no one can live with us for too awful long.  I’m praying that last part isn’t true or I’m doomed for sure!  Either way, I am so proud to be a product of both of them.  As I continue on this journey to not only make it to the Reno Rodeo All-Girl this year but also do well while I’m there, I am constantly reminded that I am doing this because of them.  My dad first put that rope in my hand and gave me the drive and passion to compete.  My mom gave me constant support and has been my biggest fan in every single thing I do in life.  Both of them taught me to never quit, even when the chips are down.  And to be successful in life you better make like a bulldogger…grab life by the horns, wrestle it to the ground, and make it your bitch!  God has a plan for all of us, but that doesn’t mean that we sit around idly and wait for good things to happen.  We have to be proactive and continue to have faith (which is sometimes a lot harder than actually PHYSICALLY doing something!). 

Love my Mommy

I used to get a daily devotional on my phone but when I got my new phone, I forgot to download the app.  My friend text me today and told me that I needed to read it because it reminded her of me and several of the situations that her and I have both faced or are currently facing.  Philippians 4:19 says, “And this same God who takes care of me will supply all your needs from His glorious riches, which have been given to us in Jesus Christ.”  Do you look towards luck or superstition to have an impact on your circumstances?  Don’t you want more than a random act of chance of good fortune?  God has a purpose in our lives and everything happens for a reason.  It’s always to draw your heart closer to Him.  Work on uncrossing your fingers and instead say a prayer.  There’s more power in purpose than random chance!   

With that being said, I end today’s post with a huge hug and happy birthday to my beautiful mom!  I love you more than I can even put into words (and I am pretty good at putting things into words…so trust me when I say, I love you A LOT)!  I am so thankful to have you in my life and I miss you all the time!  Thank you for being a continuous light in my life and supporting me in every crazy thing that I do!  Hugs and kisses from afar!  Love, Lacey 




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