Guess that wasn't Love!

The clear resonating tone of "F you and go to hell!" is sounding through my brain as I slip my phone back into the pocket of my old blue jeans. I'm thinking to myself, "guess that wasn't love" as I'm ransacking the veterinary supply box looking for a needle, syringe, and the Banamine! No, it's not for me ....I promise.

Banamine, is a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug used for horses. (No, it's not for me...I promise.) That's exactly what it is being made for today. It's aspirin for horses. But, it's for a sick little cow pony that I just temped at 104 degrees. That's pretty hot for any kind of mammal....including Ice. My brother's prized cutting horse. I'm giving him the shot to start bringing down the fever before making an after hours call to the vet. Ice had a recent sinus infection and apparently is having allergic reactions to the drugs he was given. Taking Ice to the vet means I won't be picking up this beautiful woman that I had evening plans with.

I'll call her Katie for this story...and well that's her name. Anyways, I met Katie while Christmas shopping the other day. It was the highlight of a long, exhausting, miserable day! Seriously, when did so many people quit buying their Christmas presents in July. The last two days before Christmas should be reserved for just us guys. Because we've finally made up our mind to what we want to buy and for whom, and we have formulated a plan of attack. Even planning a backup gift list for the ones that we can't find. Anyways that's another topic.

So the last stop on my tumultuous shopping expedition are some new shirts for my brother Andrew. I walked into the Cavenders Western Wear store and there she was.....a true example of physical beauty....and there I was...tongue on the ground and tripping over every line I wanted to approach her with. That's right..."approach" because it wasn't a question of if I would speak to her, it was what was I going to say? You don't win the gold buckle unless you back into the box and nod. And, I was nodding....physically nodding I think, because the next thing I know this goddess of Eden is asking me if I'm ok. As I stutter a hesitant "yes" and am trying to pull every ounce of focus to continue standing upright and not become a puddle of wasted humanity at her feet...I think to myself....this might be LOVE! I quickly gather my thoughts break the eye contact and retreat (well not retreat exactly) but to observe and gather intelligence. "The Art of War" teaches that you should know your enemy before attacking your enemy.....and there is one thing I've learned....if it's love or lust...the rules of war always apply! So I slink away to find Andrew's shirts, and size her up.

These are my thoughts as I size up the hunt. "Damn she's pretty..no beautiful...like straight out of a magazine ad! Blonde hair, straight shoulder length, kinda like Jennifer Anniston...check. She's definetly into fashion as I notice the big bright glitzy belt buckle around that little black mid thigh high dress....damn...check. Are those designer square toe cowboy boots? Yeap... Not too tan and not too white...and is that small mole on her right cheek....YES...check. Green eyes...and wow they sparkle....Ok I'm in...ALL IN! Like a bad poker player I'm flailing my chips into the center of the table in hopes of drawing the proverbial ace in the hole!"

In the meantime I've picked out a couple of shirts that I know Andrew will like, but I've figured out my icebreaker. I'm holding the shirts as I make my approach...Maverick call the ball! Roger, Maverick has the ball....."Excuse me Ma'am, but I'm having some trouble deciding on these shirts for my brother....what do you think of them? That's it...there's the ice breaker...nothing extravagant or jackassish...(it's taken alot of practice) but letting a woman have a say so in a decision you make is such a play maker. The intro works and we're talking, and I introduce myself. Ask a few questions about her, and close with an "always leave them wanting more" attitude. In thanking her for her help and good taste I ask for her number...."the gold buckle" in this instance and for some reason she gives it. Life is good, as I mentally skip gleefully away planning June weddings under green oak tress in back pastures with cold kegs of beer and brisket!

We talk....we text...and we make a date! I've flirted....and poured it on thick at every chance I could...trying not to overdue it, but at the same time being my honery self. Seems like we may get along pretty good. Until, I make a call from my cell phone saying that I can't make this evening because I'm taking Ice to the vet! Before even getting to explain what's going on..I'm hearing that pretty little mouth say that dirty word....and it might have been a turn on if it wasn't directed towards me. I say I'm sorry and wish her the best!

I load Ice and we trudge out the ranch road to the highway. I stop to check the tires, glance in on how he's doing and climb back in the cab. Shift 'Ol Blue into drive and pull out on the highway, reaching for the radio dial and the song playing is Dan Seals, "Everything that Glitters is Not Gold", couldn't make it up if I tried. In my mind a saying my father instilled in me is beating away...."you take care of your horse, before you take care of yourself"

If she was as much go as she was show...well then she would've known that. When you have responsibility sometimes things change. Like any single mother or father who ever had to change plans to deal with a sick child....The same is true with horses! They come first in times of need....And Dad, that's still true. So it wasn't love....just lust. Oh well, there's always another down the road.

A few hours later and Ice is responding well. His temperature is down, he's moving better, and by tomorrow the swelling in his neck should be almost gone. All thanks to a beautiful, vivacious, talented vet....Dr. Collins. She wasn't on call...but she took the call. Thanks Doc. I'm not sure what oath a vet takes, but I know it's based on taking care of the horse, before you take care of yourself!

LB