Saturday, February 24, 2007


It had been a basic day for us - letting him sleep in a bit from the night shift and then a decent breakfast to get him ready for the day. We like to go to the local large animal clinic to see the horses when the weather permits and we've time. I am a city girl and wholly unfamiliar with their tics and twitches so I think he believes it will slowly acclimate me to their nature.

As always before, each one puts muzzle to my face, snuffling in my breath and whoofing their own at me. I don't move my hands at first, only that nuzzling as a greeting. I think, and he agrees, that they must sense in me something of the familiar. Of course, after that I am more afraid and cautious with fingertips. But we try to be fair in our attention, stopping to see as many as we can. There were many colts there today - as if all the mares knew this was a gentler weather to bring them into the open and hurried it along.

Some we pass by, especially if their legs are bandaged, but there was one whose injury was hidden from view as we approached. Again, the snuffling and Ray turned away a moment as the horse shifted and the gaping wound at the top of the front leg came into view. Muscle, clean and smooth, shifted with its weight and in a way I found it beautiful. The wound was...almost like a gift - "see? this is us, inside. Like you. You remember, don't you?" But the moment was gone and it turned away and rather than stir it to anxiety, I moved away. But not until I told the giant in the stall next to it to lend it some strength, he being so large that surely he could spare it.

We left, then, and headed to "town". A few tasks done and a terrific lunch had, we were heading to the prospective house to get a refresher glimpse of it. On the way home, we waited for the turn signal to change, traffic behind us in the intersection. Ray's eyes fixed on the mirror and I looked in my own - the passenger door all I could see as it opened and then slammed shut again.

He put the gun nearer than its usual stowage area and said, "Fighting, two gals, I think." And again the door opened and shut so that I turned in my seat to see behind, the light changing. The driver had the other by the hair at the nape, bending her down out of view and then holding her in the seat upright, driving.

His fingers dialed, getting the nearest car dispatched and he related positions as we followed them, now, better vantage. The passenger tried to eject from the car, it going over 65 MPH. The driver maintained that grip. They exited the state road and the sheriff's car moved in between us, and we all pulled into the lot nearby.

He got out, armed but not threatening and the passenger exited the car, walking toward him as the sheriff addressed the driver. The passenger hit the ground, willingly, and that's when I could tell - oh, yeah. She had the CBD, alright. The driver seemed to be complying fine and very quickly a city car arrived, taking control of that one.

In the end, the CBD sufferer was taken off to let the drink wear down a bit, the driver ought to have been charged but we didn't wait to find out. But for me it was an interesting glimpse into how fast things can go bizarrely wrong in the world, even in this bucolic outpost. I admit to a fear the woman would go under the tires so I was happy when the movement ceased. And his utter calm but...earnestness was intriguing. Sexy as hell, too, I'll admit. I felt badly for the couple. What might once have been a happy morning ride turned into a courtroom, lawyered, paper laden affair.

Strange, in all, the day. But fun. Very much fun. I am seriously going to have a problem waking up at 3am...but he was so damned sexy! Yippee-ki-yay.

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