We were having coffee this morning around Trailhead’s coffee pot, when one story led to another. And we were told of this past weekend’s story of moving cows…to many cows into too small of pen, to be exact. Next thing the horse turned smashing our friend between the corral panel and the rear of the cow. At that point the pants got dropped to show off the new large purple bruise. That lead to the conversation about another friend’s shoulder now full of nails, screws and pins.
Then, everyone looked up at me and said “How’s the shoulder?”
Since it was rebuilt and now has its share of hardware, “Better” I said... “Well kinda, still can’t open a jar of pickles or beer bottle.”
Bucked off, fell off, kicked in the ribs it really doesn’t matter. The cause, the reason, or where and why it all happened it’s all kinda the same, but slightly different. The one telling the story may throw in the weather to add some drama, but the one thing that’s a consent in every story was the truck ride back home. You manage in your broken state to always take care of the animals, finish what you’re doing or watch a buddy finish what you’re doing, then you get in the truck and head to the barn. Something about the angle of the seat the steady bouncing on the never-ending gravel road, or the pressure of holding the steering wheel, you make it home just fine. You open the truck door and then…you just sit there nothing works you can’t move, you have set up!!!
Your spouse comes out asking “What’s up?”
“I can’t move!!!”
Then comes the motivational speech we all have heard… “Let take you to the doctor.”
Then you’re able to move, not fast, but you can get the stock put away make it in the house, take a handful of some kind of outdated pain pills from that old shoulder surgery and wash it all down with a big sip of adult beverage. And to the couch you go. The next morning you’re at Trailhead Supply’s coffee pot or a similar spot in your home town, pulling up a chair, telling the story of the ride of the week, and the plans start for next weekend. Just remember it doesn’t matter the amount of blood left behind or how much vet wrap it takes to seal it all back up. Rub some dirt on it, and get back out and ride.
Pour another cup…I’ll see you on the trail.