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Hey folks, looks like I’ll have to put our plans on hold for a few days.  As some of you know, I’ve been limping around for the last couple of weeks – due to a disagreement with a hard headed horse.  Nothing new, he’s been trying to convince me he was the ’boss’ from the time I brought him home a few years ago.

When I told my wife I was going to pick up a Mustang, she assumed I was off to fulfill another one of my high school dreams … that ’65 Ford Mustang.  Now she admits that I said ‘something about horses’, but what she heard was ‘horse power’.  I guess that makes sense – which should have been her first clue …

Anyway, I drove up to West Plains, MO. where they hold a wild horse adoption every couple of years.  I immediately fell in love with one of the stallions that had been rounded up. 

Wild Mustangs are really smart, and this one was exceptional.  When anyone would get close to him, he showed us how well he could walk on his back legs while shadow boxing with his front ones.  Wasn’t long till only three of us were still interested.  Long story short – he got to come home with me … Sometimes I think I should have bought the car.
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Grandpa, I’m in trouble … Mom’s gonna kill me!

If you have a 15 yr. old daughter or granddaughter, you can probably imagine the thoughts and feelings that went through my mind right at that moment.  Anger, Frustration, Sorrow - an urge to kill the SOB when I found out who he was – and yeah, disappointment in her too.  After all, this was my girl, my baby.  Her parents had divorced when she was five, and I’d always been there for her … a father figure, Grandpa, and best friend all rolled into one.  She was scared, but she knew she could count on me.  I took her in my arms and held her.

When she stopped crying, I asked if she was ready to talk about it ….  Folks, for a minute there I felt like taking my belt off and busting her butt.  I was angry and thrilled at the same time.  She wasn’t pregnant – she had charged almost $1,000 on her mom’s credit card for some “get rich” plan on Facebook. 

What would you do? 
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