I am Queen of my Domain...or "Just an excuse to ride the ATV"

Days are currently in a routine of sorts.  An odd one, as Kaylee is with my parents from Sunday night until we pick her up Friday night after work.  We both leap off the bus and quick-step to the car and head north to our babygirl, saying our happy goodbyes to our favorite bus driver that she enjoy her weekend and we'll see her again next week.

Sometimes they meet us, sometimes they bring her to our home, but we both look forward to Friday and almost 2 full days with her home.  Our days are packed with things to get done when we're not at work, but we attempt to indulge her wishes while she's with us.

But, the weeknights, currently, are quiet without her.  We come home, neither of us interested in dinner except as some kind of fuel, both of us thinking of what we need and want to get done that evening.

I make sure to lay hands on all 3 horses at some point.  Dakini usually coming up to me, as of late, distant from the herd.  Sometimes I find her at the front of the property and the boys back behind the house.  If I walk towards her, she comes to me, seeking comfort from my hands.  Her muzzle soft in my grasp.  I wrap my arms around her neck, breathing in her scent.  I long to be agile enough to leap on her bareback, but by this point, usually Strider has spotted me and thinks I must be bringing him food or some kind of treat, so he drives her away and he has his turn.  I grab his muzzle and lift it, dropping a kiss on the velvety end.  I gently blow into his nostrils before I inhale his own spicy and unique smell.  I run my hands over his sides, marveling at how soft his fur feels now.  He looks amazing to me; the fresh forage agrees with him.  He's perhaps a little heavier than he should be, but I console myself that ride season is fixing to gear up, and in a few weeks, he'll probably drop some of that if he manages to do back to back LDs for me.  I step away from him as Socks makes his way up, wanting to touch him too.  I always take a moment to look into his eyes as I gently stroke his face.  Sometimes I'm transported back into that stall at Lucky 7 where I finally placed my arms around his neck and admitted in my heart of hearts I couldn't sell him.  The tears on my face were warm as they soaked into his mane that day.  Sometimes my mind flashes to that image John Nowell took of us as we crossed the finish line together at Armadillo.  My form atrocious, but his movement still free and happy.  And I'm flooded with gratitude to him for having so much heart that day, and for taking such good care of me. 

Most nights I then leave them at this point, some nights I go and grab a halter to work on Strider's feet. 

I go and check their water trough.  Top it off if it needs it.  Dump it if it's dirty and refill it.  While doing that I'll toss Strider's supplement and a small scoop of grain in a pan and put him in a pen to wolf it down.

Those chores done, I go to the ATV.  Pancho is usually on alert and comes running over, or, if I drive the front section of the property, he comes racing up, small form flying over the ground.  I marvel that he's a 9 year old dog.  Realize that next January he'll be 10.  He doesn't look it.  He looks like a dog in the prime of his life.  Not fat, not skinny.  No gray yet on that black and tan muzzle.  I scoop him up and drop him on the backseat and remind him to hang on.  Paws go up on the arm rests as we go flying off together, his ears flapping in the breeze, tongue lolling out.

I enjoy this time of the evening.  It's not dark yet, but sunset is fast approaching.  I fly up to the gate that separates the front from the back of the property.  Open it and leave it open now.  I used to close it, afraid the horses would come back, but, why would they?  The grazing up front is best, and there's minimal evidence they want to come back to the gate. 

Pancho and I go through and we fly along, the ATV rattling and roaring beneath us.  The engine starts to whine that it's ready to shift faster, so I do, and it leaps beneath me.  This both terrifies me, and delights me as we careen faster.  Come to the first low-lying area, so I downshift, pausing to make sure we're in 4WD as we follow the tracks we've now laid down.  Rattle rattle rattle.  It's so rough through here, but the best part lies ahead as we come up from the low spot.  I open it up once again and we fly, the neighbors dog charging the fence line, barking at us.  There's a gravel "road" I follow, flying now as I shift again, we leap forward.  Wind whips past us as I turn to follow the tracks, not comfortable going through the deepest part of the weeds again.  Slow down as we get to the second low-lying area, rattling through it as we follow the fence line.  Crickets chirp as I keep the ATV slow now, crunching up the rocky part of our property, cutting through cedar trees and slowly climbing to the back fence.

Every single night I marvel that all of this is ours. 

I reflect on something Joe told me when I asked if there was anything a kid could want on our property to make it better.  He said "This is your dream."

And he's right. 

I pause, briefly, as I come back out of the trees at the back, and face forward on our property.  I can't even see the fence that separates front and back pastures.  I see the neighbors to my left, but they fade as I look around me, my heart in my throat, amazed at the gracious gift that sprawls before me.  I can already envision the horses, in the heat of the day, relaxing under the large and old oaks.  Mentally I sketch in a stock tank and fill it full of fish for Joe to fish out of.  I picture he and Kaylee, bonding over fishing poles and fisherman's tall tales. 

But, the light is rapidly fading, and I'm still a little scared of snakes.  The ATV has headlights, but I don't want to be caught out in the dark.  I don't know the terrain that well yet, and I know there's still hidden dangers I could get it hung up on, and the prospect of walking back to the front of the property on foot doesn't appeal to me.  So I slowly motor on, looking at the neighbor's on my right cattle.  They're red and black.  I assume angus.  I don't know though.  I'm eager to learn about cattle next.  And chickens. 

We rattle through the low spot and I gun the ATV again to the road and once more we fly as the dog charges the fence, letting me know I'm not welcome across their fence line.  His tail is wagging though, betraying his loud barks.  My own faithful ranch dog still perched on his throne as we slow down and rattle through the low area at the front.

"Ready Pancho?"

And I gun it, making slow and lazy loops through the front part of the pasture, pushing the throttle of the ATV and shifting up, having it leap and thrust forward.

We race to the gate as I slam on the brakes, shifting down to neutral as I set the parking brake, shutting the gate behind me.  My neighbors to the left out on the porch, music already playing, their conversation drifting lazily through the air.  Pancho remains on the seat as I playfully ruffle his ears, hand gently shaking his muzzle.  "Good boy."  And he grins that Dachshund grin at me, king of his own world. 

And we make our way to the house.  But I'm not done just yet.  One final loop around the front to see the horses again.  And a final burst of speed on the ATV before I park it by the shed.  Joe's already inside.  Probably watching TV.  I'm loathe to go in though.  So on foot, once more, I seek out the horses.  Pancho having wandered off into the brush somewhere.  Rango whips by me in the dark, bouncing happily as he too wanders back off again.

Dakini's gray form gleams, even in the rapidly settling darkness.  I can see Socks' 4 white legs, and a space where the darkness is darker than dark.  Once again my gray mare walks over to me.  I gently stroke her again, saying good night before I call the dogs to me, walk back up the driveway and go into the house.