Paradise

Between ranch work, drill team, mountain trips, and even horse camp, Dylan and Grady's horseback skills have skyrocketed this year.  It's been pretty cool to watch.  Dylan started, as a cocky cowboygirl toddler, with a limited set of skills and an overabundance of confidence.  I was certain I was raising the next horse-whisperer.  On one fateful cattle drive, I put her on Barney, the oldest, steadiest horse on the ranch.  Ol' Barney was perfect for her; she could act like she was in charge and he'd point her in the right direction.  I knew Barney was so reliable, I didn't even have to hold his lead rope while I checked the cinch on my horse.  For some reason, Barney saw his chance to break and bolted like he was running out of Shawshank.  I turned around to see a geriatric horse and a screaming toddler go galloping down the road.  Dylan hung on, barely, and Uncle Tony had to chase them down in his truck.  Adios, confidence.  It took years before Dylan would even break into a trot.

But now, Dylan rides Dad's old horse, Romeo, and the two are a great pair.  She's become a fearless rider again and I love the transformation.  So when I need an extra hand with ranch work, I call on them.  Such was the case last Friday.  I loaded our horses and picked up Dylan from the front of the Jr. High and off we went.  I needed to move a small herd of cattle that had holed up in a meadow we call Paradise Hollow.  It's a place I'd hole up in if I were a cow or a fugitive: good grass, clear creek water, nice scenery.  But the feed was running low and it was time to bring the cows home.  This was normally a job I'd do with at least one of my brothers, but they were busy, or stoved up, or both, so Dylan got the nod.

Dylan and I had a blast.  We crashed through brush and trees, hopped over creeks, and pushed pairs down a steep, dusty trail.  Dylan, as usual, happily chatted the whole time while I just listened.  When we finally got the cattle close enough to the lower meadow, we turned the horses up the hill and followed bear tracks back to the truck.

We made it off the mountain in time for Dylan to make it to yet another horse-activity: 4-H horsemanship.  She traded her ball cap for a helmet and she and Romeo practiced more obstacles in an arena.  "How'd Romeo do?" I asked that evening.  "He was okay," Dylan said, "but he didn't like going over all the obstacles."  Hmmm, I thought.  Poor Romeo was probably a little wiped out from all the down logs, creeks, brambles, and boulders he'd just spent the previous few hours stepping over and around.  I tossed Romeo a little extra hay the next morning and thanked him for being the King of Steady, and cut him a little slack for being lazy on the 4-H obstacle course.