The rule of halves

Sometimes I can be a bit of a glass-is-half-empty kind of guy. However, when I see a horse come running back to the ranch without its rider and with the saddle dangling underneath its belly, I feel it is justified. This happened yesterday afternoon, and I knew my day was shot.

A few moments later the other horse showed up, with its rider this time. "Where's your partner," I quizzed, and learned that she had gotten off the horse to recover a water bottle, and the horse made a break for it. OK, good, there would be no blood or helicopter rides in the near future. The horses had obviously had enough excitement for one day, so we quickly settled them into a small pasture, and I sent the lone rider back in the golf cart to retrieve her stranded comrade. I then fetched Christie, something I should have done first, not last.

I filled Christie in on the details and went back to work. Awhile later ... I don't know how long because I was working and you know how time flies ... Anyway, awhile later, the duo hadn't returned so Christie decides to go looking for them. Another while later -- don't ask, I still don't know how long "awhile" is -- the golf cart comes back with only one person on it. Oh boy, here we go, time for the blood and helicopter rides.

Well, it turned out that the other half of the pair didn't wait to be rescued, she started walking home ... the wrong way. I called Christie on the car phone, and we regrouped. She and Rider#1 would retrace the route in the Chevy, while I would take the Dodge and check other nearby roads. We kept in touch via walkie-talkies, and after a sun-soaked and dusty hour, we had very few leads and had searched all the back roads.

At that point we caught a break. Right near where Bear Creek meets Mill Creek, we found some shoe prints that likely belonged to Rider#2. The only problem is they were heading away from the ranch. I headed back to the house to leave a note while Christie followed the tracks. When I arrived home, Rider#2 was sitting on the couch eating ice cream! It seems she hiked toward Frenchtown until she met someone on the road who kindly gave her a ride back to the ranch.

As to whether the glass was half full or half empty, it was kind of a tie. My day was indeed shot, but there were also no blood or helicopters. Worse than I hoped, better than I feared. In the end, everyone, human and equine, was home safe and sound, so I may have to go with half full.