Whoa. A whole YEAR!?!?

Hey y'all.  I didn't die or anything.  Although I have wanted to buy one of those bumper stickers that says, "But did you die?"

https://youtu.be/SjJlepMUMsg

Current cast of characters: Bella, Scout, Buster, and Juniper.  Huckleberry, Winston, Orion, and two new cats, Elvis and Suki.  A couple old horses came and went, and Sawyer colicked and was euthanized.  Halla went to a new home with a young man who seemed to like her and she seemed to like him.  They rode well together.

After my appendectomy I came home and got really sick with some sort of respiratory problem, apparently not Covid although I only tested for it once.  I missed a month of work in March, went back, and was slowly being edged out by the power-hungry new vet there.  In June I went on vacation and broke my back, only to come back to work 3 days later to a note saying I needed to work full time or they would take over my duties until they found a new office manager for the vet clinic.  "They" being the power hungry new vet, I'm sure.  Anywhoo, I walked out that day, because my boss knew that even if I hadn't broken my back, with the migraines and the narcolepsy I not only wouldn't, but couldn't work full time.  I loved that job.  Had worked for her for 6 years.

Back to my back - Buster spooked and bucked and I popped off the side like I do, but I tried so hard to stay on that MY theory is that my muscles broke the bones.  The doctor thinks it was the impact, but I wasn't even bruised. Either way, I broke the transverse processes on 4 of my lumbar vertebrae, and I have 2 bulging discs and "levoconvex scoliosis." Basically it frigging hurts.  I knew something was way wrong compared to a usual fall, immediately.  I had to climb back on though, and ride 3 miles back.  Throwing my leg over the cantle hurt like hell, and every time Scout would snark at him from in front of us and Buster would stop short, it would drive my butt and my back down into the saddle.  Ouch.  We'd been camping for a week, so I helped pack up camp as well as I could, unsaddled my donkey, and drove the rig home.  It was when I sat down on a hard wood chair and felt bones grind that I knew for sure something was broken.  I thought it was the top wing of my pelvis.  The grinding didn't hurt, really.  Later I learned about "visceral pain" which for me isn't really painful but it makes me want to puke.

The ER doctor listened to my story and prodded my back and thought I was fine, judging by his face.  When he came back with my CT results he sang a different tune.  "You must be really tough, because I was pushing pretty hard on your back and you didn't seem to mind, but you have several broken bones."  He proceeded to draw a picture that was a VERY BAD drawing of a pelvis.  Because it was my spine!  I wasn't expecting that.  Hahahaha.

Long story shorter, I'm riding again but I'm in pain pretty much always.  Such is life...  I also patched things up with my boss.  The other vet deserted her and left her in a bad place and alllll the skeletons came out of the closet and she acknowledged that all the manipulation that I said was going on was real. I'm stopping in there periodically, but I can't really work.  I'm not reliable, and the stupidest things hurt my back.  I got to draw blood and send it off and run around and help with stuff, and boy howdy, I miss it.

I hunted this year and got my first elk (cow) and and a buck that I'm told was a whitetail mule deer hybrid.  I don't even want to eat beef anymore.  Man, it's so good.  Went turkey hunting once but apparently I suck at that.  I'll try again when I can.  I'm going to try to hunt as much as possible this year.  It's good for my back, all the stalking and sneaking over hill and dale, and the early mornings in the clear air seem to be good for my headaches.

I got in TONS of camping but not as much riding as I would have liked this year, but it's been a glorious year.  Two trips to Arizona this fall and winter.  

The first trip I took to Arizona, it was just me and Huckleberry on an ecstatic journey, flying by the seat of our pants in a sacred land. I don't think I can ever top that.  

John drove back with me and we had a blast and got some glorious photos:

And I went back again for a short trip, filled with angst, only the landscape could give me any relief.

I have nothing to complain about.

Except that Huckleberry is dying and my best friend is going through some really tough shit. 

My sister helped me pick Huckleberry out as a puppy and she named him and he loved her sometimes more than he loved me.  He traveled on all the trails with us and did all sorts of naughty things, bringing elk stampeding toward us, biting mama moose on the heels, luring predators into camp where we slept completely exposed to their eyes amongst the wildflowers.  She died long before he did but a piece of our friendship lived on in him.

I won't speak of my friend except to say my part, my heart is physically hurting, all the time, every day.  

A soft wind touched my face in the sunlight and said, "Everything will be alright."  It felt like what a loving mother's hand must feel like on a trusting daughter's cheek, when she knows her child is hurting.  And I know it is true, and I should trust it, but I am only human, and soft.  In time all things will wash clear and shine.