The original 'horse thing'...
About three weeks ago, Jon (yes, the Lair Guy) came and asked me when, exactly, Eric's birthday was. I told him and he said something I pretty much ignored about a horse... again.
Sigh. We've been thru this before, right? Well, this time, he really is trying. I have to give him that.He found a Quarter Horse, a King bloodlined Quarter Horse, to be precise, that the owner wants to go to a good home. This horse is said to be 23 years old and a past National Reserve Champion Reining horse. I tried to find anything about any of that online, to no avail, by the way.
Anyhow, the owners came here, first. Had the house better than ever before, outside, too. That was the day I reclaimed the carport for real. The first thing they looked at when they got here, was Storm, in the field, not being bothered by flies and groomed. They loved that. They were also impressed with the overall health of the cows that are in Eric's direct care and checked out all the horse-related shit we have and do and were suitably reassured. We set up a time later that day to go see the horse. We were exactly on time for that and here's where it gets kinda weird. The guy who now owns the horse took him outta the stall. After quite a while, it seemed to finally occur to him to saddle the horse. Then, he spent way too much time riding the horse himself, in way too small an area for what he was asking the horse to do, hence he looked ridiculous, crow-hopping around on the animal. Especially when he started saying how he had been told upon receipt of said horse, that he had been given the keys to a Porsche and not to hurt himself. Gawd. If that horse is a Porsche, then he's a goof who can't shift jerkin' and squeakin' his way up the sidewalk. Swear to God.It was sad. Anyway, after about a half hour, 45 minutes of this mess, the guy finally asks Eric if he wants to try him out. "Duh, no. We just drove over an hour to come here and watch THAT display." Honestly. It took Eric a little while to adjust to that particular horse. While he was doing that, Mr. Know-it-all was acting like a girl over the minor adjustments that were still needing to be made between Eric and the horse. They wound up doing just fine together. Then, the owner gets back on and proceeds to continue proving how badly he rides. I never did get a chance to try him, myself. Then, I was told that never, in the entire 15 years that he'd owned the horse, had Goofball ever let anyone else ride him. That kinda shit used to be impressive... when I was TWELVE! This guys wife is the one who takes care of the horses, every day all day long. You tellin' me you've never even let her ride him? Pfft. Good for you. Aaaanyway... The way this guy was talking, the horse was as good as Eric's, he just wanted time to adjust to the idea. He really doesn't have time for the horse anymore and his wife IS the one stuck doing all the work and yada, yada, yada... Sigh.... Well.
Eric finally called the guy four days later. Guy says that if/when he does get rid of the horse, he will be coming here, no one else will get him, BUT.... he's still "thinking". If this dude had enough brains to support all the "thinking" he's done so far, his goddamned head would be bigger than a mini-van, fer fuck's sake. This dude KNEW that this was supposed to be a birthday present-deal for Eric. Not that that matters to Mr. Ruminator-Man. They're supposed to be going on vacation in a few days, and I think this guy said he'd let Eric know before they left, but, I'm so aggravated NOW, that I barely care. In the meantime, Jon, becoming desperate for a horse to be here on time, finds, what? three more, who need homes? Jesus. That's where the 'other twit-bitch' comes in, but I covered HER stupid shit in the last post. I don't know or even CARE what happened with the other two, right now. Suffice it to say, Eric's birthday has come and gone and Storm is still an only-horse. And, apparently, Eric is relative-less. No horse, no family. Yeah. I'm sure cake and cookies fixed THAT. Siiiigh. Oh, and it looks like I can't take Xenadrine in place of Ephedra... unless, of course, I can adjust to having ankles the size of elephant legs, which I don't wanna do, thanks. Fuck me runnin'... ya know? I'm tryin' to maintain, here. Like I said a while ago, I ain't smacked anybody yet and if food can fix any of this, then it may be okay, after all, cuz I have cooked my ass off this weekend for Eric. And, loved it. I made more dozens of tollhouse cookies than I can count, made taco's for dinner one night, one of those huge-assed breakfasts yesterday and I think I've got or had most of his favorite food here for him. Haven't decided what to do for dinner, but, hell, it's only around 8:30... I've got time. Think I'm gonna go hang with Storm for a while. I did that yesterday and it was great. Fuck, I wish these people'd come the hell on... Eric deserves this horse and more that I also can't get for him. Maybe I'll just go bite a tree or something... See ya's later.
Peace
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