“I crawl out of bed, fussing a bit, but follow her out the door. T is scenario has replayed itself many times through the years, with the same debate each time. I contend the horses are bet er off outside during bad weather; Paula insists they are safer inside. I would like to tell you aſt er many years of having this discussion I have persuaded her over from the dark side, but I can’t. It’s just one of those debates you fi nally just agree to disagree, even if she’s wrong.”
horses toward the barn, the wind picked up and a single leaf came rolling across the yard. Aſt er water pails were fi lled, a fl ake of hay given to each horse and a moment to catch our breath, we opened the barn door to watch the storm and assess damages; it was over. Blue sky was on the horizon, birds were chirping and that single leaf had not yet made it all the way across the lawn. It was over, I was soaked, and I was not pleased. We both know how to eff ectively employ the stink-eye. I wish the weather radio would modify their delivery format.
Rather than the urgent beeping sounds followed by: “Doppler radar has indicated a storm capable of 70 mph winds and damaging hail moving east at 40 miles an hour. Communities aff ected are Belle Plaine, Jordan, Prior Lake and Lakeville. If you are in the path of this storm, seek cover immediately.” What Paula hears is: “Doppler radar is tracking a storm moving directly toward Paula’s place and if she cares about her horses at all she should bring them in. If she doesn’t, she may never see them again.” T e change I suggest would come at the very end of the weather
statement, right aſt er the part about get ing away from windows and seeking shelter in an enclosed building on the lowest fl oor: “If you have horses, and they have shelter, don’t concern yourself with bringing them in, they are safer leſt outside.” I’ll give Paula some credit; she does ask for my opinion and does,
on rare occasion, listen to it. When she asks me if we should bring the horses in and I tell her they’ll be fi ne, there are times she nervously watches out the window as the storm passes through. T e fi rst time she did listen to me though, I was nervous during the whole storm event, hoping nothing would happen. I wasn’t so concerned for the horses, but for my own safety if something did happen. I’ve done that dance with her many times and have resolved to take the lesser of two evils. Get ing up and taking the horses in
the barn takes what, 15 minutes? Put ing up with her tossing and turning and mumbling something about hoping they were OK, I don’t get to sleep for the entire duration of the storm anyway. If she suggests they go in, I don’t even fuss about it anymore. “Yes dear, let’s get those horses in.” If you stand fi rm and she ends up going out and doing it herself,
let me tell you boys, this is not a good idea. “Yes dear, you bet I’ll help” is a much wiser course of action. I, however, am guilty of wanting to bring the horses in, too. It’s
not so much the weather that bothers me as the bugs. If I notice the bugs are just a cloud around the horses and they have telltale small bumps all over them, I’ll bring them into the comfort of the barn for the evening. So, I’m just as guilty as being a bit more touchy-feely with the horses than I probably need to be. Between my wanting to bring them in because of the bugs and
Paula wanting to bring them in each time it storms, one would think we could just open the gate and the horses would just trot across the yard, walk into their stalls and close the gates behind em’, just like dairy cat le, but they don’t. I don’t think I have talked her into my way of thinking, and she
has not talked me into hers. But, if she insists they are going in, they are going in. When you live with a cowgirl, there are times it’s best to just say, “Yes, dear.”
Colin Williams is from Prior Lake, Minnesota. He describes himself as a part-time freelance writer and a full-time cowboy prospect. He was introduced to horses in his late thirties, when he met Paula. T ey now share a small farm with two dogs, two cats and of course, the horses.
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