Inspiration from Buck

Sometimes you just have to make yourself have a good day. When things get you down, like unfair discrimination at work that you can only push so far before you lose your job and they know it and they know you can’t afford an attorney, and your back hurts and your chart is fugly and your garden is overwhelming you and you are prone to dramatic run on sentences? Yea, it demands you have a good day tomorrow. So after an excruciatingly long day at work that made me IRATE and want to punch someone, I went home and attacked the weeds in my garden till I could barely stand up straight because my back hurt so bad. We ordered dinner in so I wouldn’t have to cook and they screwed my order up so I couldn’t eat it. So I ended up having to make myself dinner anyway at 9pm. I was in tears because I was soooo frustrated.

So I took a shower, gave myself a mani/pedi and painted all my digits electric turquoise (very 90’s and very unprofessional). I did a home wax and shaped my eyebrows and cleaned up the lip and chin area (darn PCOS hair growth in unattractive places). This morning, I hot rolled my hair and put on heels and a dress. My boobs look damn good in this dress. I usually wear tennis shoes, jeans and cute shirts with my hair pulled back because I work in an automotive shop and the floors can get slick from the grease, armorall etc. They detail the vehicles in the bay that is between the women’s restroom and my little office (that we call the doghouse) so respectable shoes are a must along with the required safety glasses. Screw it. I’m in slick high heels that are barely held on my feet by two rhinestone encrusted straps. I have on a long black and white maxi dress with a little white crochet shrug and my hair is in big tussled curls half way down my back. There are tongues rolling around on the floor everywhere. Ahh the power of boobs and a body that has lost 46 pounds and has a waste and hips. I feel empowered! You want to discriminate against me because I’m a woman? Fine. I’ll use my womanhood and all the power contained there in. ::screams out:: HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW!?

Anyway, so I’m having a good day by sheer force of will. I have a very Sookie Stackhouse smile plastered on my face and I’m strutting it because I can. Sometimes you have to hold your head up and dare the world to push you down. IF is like that. Every month of disappointment comes and goes and you grieve and get disappointed and want to give up, but one day into AF you stand up straight and say, NOT THIS TIME. I shall not go peacefully into the night...and you dust yourself off and look for the next course of action. I’m not ready to give up yet. I have a few good years left to fight and I’m not going to be put out to pasture yet like an old horse.

I know a thing or two about old horses. My favorite horse in the whole world whom I loved beyond what is reasonable died in June 2006 at the age of 38. At 35 we were still on the charity show circuit and we were still winning! He was still taking the barrels with the young un’s and he was still spirited and proud. He carted my fat butt all over the mountain trails. He was old, and he LOVED the trails. He loved cutting cattle even when I didn’t want to and ended up on the ground because I wasn’t expecting him to go after a calf. (He turned right, my butt went straight). He was passed over because he was a little sway back and had sad eyes by many people, but they didn’t know what I knew. They didn’t know the happy nicker as soon as I walked through a gate. They didn’t know the full out gallop that would take your breath away when I gave him his head. They didn’t know the absolute devotion of standing alone in the middle of a field with a herd of horses that were agitated and fighting and this old man of a horse, smaller than the rest, came and stood in front of this silly human girl with teeth bared and ears pinned and hooves flying to protect her and put three young geldings in their places. They didn’t see the courage of this old horse who with 100 yellow jacket stings and suffering galloped down a mountain 10 miles in 30 minutes to get his human girl to the medics because she was dying from over 30 stings. He was sick for three months with full on vet attention at 37 years old but he did it for me. He took a 5 hour trailer trip to the coast in 2002 to ride the beach and raise money for the fireman from 9-11 and he galloped through the sand and water and held his head high. He carried the American Flag in every opening ceremony and he arched that neck and high stepped because he KNEW he was doing something important.

People forgot that he had been a champion. That he had legendary blood running through his veins. That he was loyal beyond what is expected from a horse. He taught me so much about life and courage and what it means to love and dream. HE TAUGHT ME TO LOVE the older horses that were discarded by others. To not give up on them and deal with their aging bodies like arthritis, diarrhea and rotting teeth with compassion and understanding. And from the grave, today, he has given me one more lesson. Do not give up on myself.

It’s not my time to be overlooked and pushed down. I still have a lot of life and love to give and I can still do this. My body can still do this for the love of another and the chance to live a dream. Tonight, I will walk out to the back of my land, and visit the grave of Buck (yes, that’s where Buckin came from) and let him know he is still not forgotten and is still helping me learn and live. And one day, his favorite place where he rests, will have a new hope grazing there. A small old quarter horse forgotten by others but making a new child’s dream come true and teaching the lessons of life. My child. And the legacy of Buck and Me and our amazing story will live on into another generation.