Last week my dear husband tried to kill me.
Of course, the joke would’ve been on him because I don’t think my life insurance pays more than $32. 50 when I kick it.
And people always think he's the nice one in this outfit; little do they know that this is exactly the kind of shit that earned him the nickname WICKED early on in our relationship.
The bastard tried to electrocute me… and he set up two horses to trample me into the dirt.
Actually it was worse than that, I could well have died from the sheer fucking embarrassment, I swear to Gawd.
A big good looking quarter horse of ours (who is currently for sale) has been at the trainer’s place – there was a couple who called & wanted to go out to have a look at him. We are pretty good friends with the trainer & her hubby so they are fine with us going there when they aren’t home. But, my friend had never shown me where the shut down is for their electric fence... and I honestly never thought to ask.
Need I mention that the electric fence was ON last night?
We opened the gate and my dear one hung the electric tape handle onto the wooden railing and waited there with the strangers while I went into the pen to halter the horse. Maybe I should've known right away that bad things were about to happen when he didn't come when called and shove his head into his halter as he has done for the entire 5 years of his life...
I thought I’d just push him up to the top of the pen & into the shelter before laying my rope over his neck. He who Loves Me was holding onto the metal gate and, as the horse got close to him, he reached out & started petting him. The attention whoring son of a bitch stopped in his tracks and soaked that shit up. He is sharing his smallish pen with a ditsy appaloosa who sports the most adorable handlebar moustache; as Hubs petted my guy this other dumb horse was right up in my face mugging me for the chunk of apple he could smell in my pocket... and that’s when the Evil Bastard tried to fucking kill me.
A sudden burst of wind blew the electric tape into contact with the metal gate, shocking my man and, of course, passing through him straight into the gelding at greatly increased shocking power.
The snap of electricity was very loud...
like a fucking clap of thunder loud.
My horse whirled around & bolted, and of course the other gelding also headed for the hills at breakneck speed. If you doubt me that an 1100 pound animal can go from 0 to 45mph in about 1/8th of a second, just google 'barrel racing' and then try to craft that argument to me.
My own freaking horse slammed me full on in the chest with his shoulder as he turned; I was spun around by the impact & crashed to the ground. Of course, the two jackasses pounded right by me – it’s an absolute wonder neither one crushed my dumb skull.
Being as I had an audience, I jumped right up & made like it was no biggie. I brushed myself off, giggled, and even took a little bow - I was stalling, trying to catch my breath, which is hard when you're thinking your lung may be collapsing. I could NOT admit the obvious - that of course I had just been hit by a 4-legged locomotive and was pretty sure someone should be dialing 911.
It's one thing if no one sees me have a near death experience, and completely another if there are concerned bystanders hoping a bloody 3 car pile-up will turn out to be a laughing moment.
I'm nothing without my dignity... I'm like a cat that way.
I also could not slug my husband in the eye or ask him if he is fucking retarded in front of company, so he totally dodged that bullet as I was too busy claiming no hard feelings.
Need I say that I do indeed have hard feelings at the moment?
By the time we were driving home and the adrenalin had worn off, I was in serious need of megadoses of painkillers. I keep checking the mirror for bruising, because it seems like getting hit in the chest by a fricking mack truck donkey should leave a mark, but no.
The lady phoned the next day and apologized that she was no longer interested in buying that horse; even though his was a normal reaction to being half- electrocuted, I could not blame her a single bit.
At the time, I did not know who was higher up on my ‘shit list’, the horse or the husband.
I had to book off work for the entire last week, in which time I have downed a month's worth of good narcotics. Which has also saved my husband from pain, because it's too late to be mad now.