What, it's not Monday? I'm a victim of what I call the "Summer Blur" where all the days start running together. So it still feels like Monday to me. Today's advice is priceless so you might want to take notes and bookmark this post for future reference (as you do all my Monday posts I'm sure).
I would like to give you some advice about horses, since I am a self proclaimed horse knower person. Horses love me. But, apparently there are two things horses don't like (or at least this specific horse [we'll call him Crazy Horse] one street over from ours). I wish I had known these things before The Incident, but I do now and I will share them with you so you can avoid a similar situation.
It was a nice evening and my daughter and I decided to go on a bike ride (mistake number one since Crazy Horse thinks bikes are the devil's transportation). We were enjoying the nice weather and the beautiful country scenery when I noticed Crazy horse in the distance. My daughter, who has an unfounded fear of horses (I should say 'had' because her fear was about to be justified) said, "Mom, don't call to it." She knows that I like to click at horses. Usually they come trotting over to the fence and I can pat their necks or just look at them. But this horse had a crazy look in its eye (hence the name). I am a horrible mother, though, and like to tease my daughter, so I did the cheek click thing anyway (mistake number two since Crazy Horse thinks cheek clicking is the devil's communication device).
This sent off the following series of events: Crazy Horse comes charging at the fence at a very fast speed. My daughter and I, who are now much closer, slow to a stop. Crazy Horse rams his shoulders into the fence and then turns and runs to the back of the pasture. My daughter and I exchange a look and turn our bikes around. Crazy Horse runs towards the fence again, faster this time. So fast that I know he is trying to jump it. I look at my daughter and yell, "Run!" (Which looking back, I should've yelled "Ride" but I was in panic mode). We ride back towards the way we came. I look over my shoulder to see Crazy Horse clear the fence (YES, JUMP OVER THE FENCE) I know that horse is about to chase me down and trample me to death. My life flashes before my eyes. My daughter says, "Mom, it ran the other way." I catch my breath and look to see it happily trotting up the street away from us. I reassess my life goal of becoming the next Horse Whisperer. The neighbors jump off their porch and hop in their car to chase down the horse. My daughter says, "If you ever click at a horse again, I will stop speaking to you."