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Confessions of a Horse Riding Mum: Bootfaced

When we first met, it was love at first sight.

So beautiful, so long, so soft, so black. Those Ariat Challenge Field boots were my first pair of really nice top boots I’d ever bought myself (actually to be fair, I didn’t buy them, I did however put them on layby and told the hubby that my Christmas present was waiting to be collected ¦) and I loved them. I really did.

But we all know that life can have its ups and downs and that tragedy can strike at any moment. You should keep that in mind next time when lovingly caressing your own beautiful top boots.

When I saw it, I must say I was hit with the full gamut of typical emotions that a traumatic event can evoke. The shock, denial and anger phases pretty much all rolled into one within about 30 seconds when my eye fell on a piece of black leather sitting all by itself outside on the back deck.

It was early in the morning, not my sharpest time of the day I have to confess, but my brain quickly snapped into high alert, my heart sank and my head went into denial. I’m pretty sure the neighbours 5kms down the road heard my NOOOOOOOOO which was fairly swiftly followed by a word that I don’t think I’m allowed to print here (starts with an F ends in a K and no, it wasn’t firetruck!)

Now as a general rule I do try to sleep in my underwear for the sake of my children (no one needs to see mummy walking around the house naked in the middle of the night. Or anytime really for that matter) I also generally don’t start thinking with any real clarity or cohesion until after at least the first coffee of the day and (if I’m honest) not really until about half way through coffee number two, after the kids are on the bus and the hubby is out the door. Then I put on pants.

Note to self ¦when losing your s##t at the dog, remember to put on pants.

Fortunately for all involved (apart from him that is) living on acreage, we only have one close neighbour, an elderly retiree. He’s a nice man. And while he is used to hearing the occasional run of bad language, crying child and generally unsettling noises from our side of the fence, he certainly didn’t deserve to start his day to a crazy lady chasing a dog around in her underwear in the back yard waving a boot and screaming expletives like a banshee at 6:30 in the morning.

Or if he did, his dreams came true that morning. And if that was the case I’m willing to bet that the reality wouldn’t have lived up to the fantasy somehow. If you’d seen my underwear you’d understand why. (Another note to self ¦need to upgrade the undies)

In any case, I did notice that upon peering over the fence, most likely to investigate who was being murdered at that hour of the day, our lovely neighbour made a very hasty retreat and I didn’t lay eyes on him again for three solid days. Having apologised, at his request I agreed to never speak of the incident again, although I have noticed that he still struggles to make eye contact. I guess there are some things that, no matter how much you might wish otherwise, just can’t be unseen.

Oh, and in case you were concerned, rest assured that my beloved Kelpie, Rex was neither maimed nor injured as a result of his crime. Just sworn at prolifically. In the backyard. In my undies.

Just keep riding fellow mums until next time!

The Riding Mum

The perpetrator!



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