Back in Texas… but off to Dallas!

I got back into Texas on Thursday night but returned to an empty house.  Despite my not having seen my husband in almost 2 weeks, he still had plans to go roping that night with his dad.  At first I was a little miffed that he wouldn’t cancel his plans to see me for the first time in 12 days, but actually it turned out much better because I got to come home, relax, and clean up a bit before seeing him.  After a day of airports I felt relatively disgusting and could not wait to take off my suit and get in the shower. 

After a few hours of relaxing I heard the diesel engine and horsetrailer coming down the road and started hopping around near the front door with excitement.  I peeked through the window as Oatmeal pulled the truck/trailer into the driveway and killed the engine.  I expected him to get out and let the horses out and put them up before coming toward the house, but he made a beeline for the house first.  This surprised me and I thought that it must be that he just couldn’t wait to see me!  I sat down on the couch (as to not appear TOO excited to greet him by hopping around all over the front door) and when he walked in I smiled really big… and then realized he was holding his arm in a funny way.  “Oh hell are we going to the ER?”  I did not ask those words aloud but I was wondering to myself.  Instead I said (sweetly), “Aw honey what happened?”  As it turned out he had ended up with the rope twisted around his hand, with a running calf on the other end of the rope.  Calves are babies, sure, but they still weigh several hundred pounds, so it could have been much worse.  After a half hour of cleaning, flinching, and patching up I finally got my hug and kiss. 

(Now let me back up and tell you that last week a well known guy from around here (who is friends with Oatmeal’s family) died while riding horses.  This guy has been riding his entire life but a herd of cows were running around and he and his horse (and cousin) were moving them around.  This guy led his horse toward the cows, who happened to be near a patch of trees, and somehow he ended up decapitated.  Yes, decapitated.  I should pause for a moment and let you recover from that because I know that whoever may be reading this was not prepared.  And this was no first timer here, this was a man as experienced in the horseback riding area as my husband.  Of course there is no chance of me getting Oatmeal to stop riding horses.  Hell, I couldn’t even get him to wear a helmet if I tried.  But it worries me.  Horseback riding is the most dangerous sport there is, and my husband does it daily.  I just tell myself that God obviously has big plans for my Oatmeal, or he wouldn’t have survived 3 deadly or potentially car accidents in the past 10 years.  I don’t think God is quite done with Oatmeal yet, so I guess I will just have to trust that he will keep protecting him from whatever may hurt him.  This is what I told myself as I patched up his hand and thought to myself that it could have been much worse.)

So back to Oatmeal and his arrival at our home.  This is the point where things should have started to get romantic, right?  He was all patched up, we hadn’t seen each other in 2 weeks, etc.  But no.  Instead Oatmeal is very hungry and starts knawing on a tenderloin with his good hand and insists on giving the bones and remaining meat to the dogs.  I pleaded with him to not do this, telling him it always made my parent’s dogs sick.  He insisted, telling me that they are wild animals and have the digestive tract to handle it.  I pleaded more, but could tell he was not going to back down.  10 minutes later Goose threw up pork and pork bone all over the kitchen.  My crippled husband wasn’t much for cleaning it up, so I did it. 


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