It is said that bad luck happens in threes.
I publicly humiliated myself recently by admitting to an incident that happened to me and my bay mare regarding an overhead roll up door.
About a week after that, I dropped my brand new camera on the concrete outside my sister’s garage after capturing on film the wonderful day my kids and I had sledding behind the four wheelers after a first-day-of-spring snow storm. It did not fare well.
After those two incidents happened, I remarked to my friend that I was certainly hoping there would not be a third incident. She was supportive; she said “I think you can count the overhead door accident as two incidents – one for the door itself and one for the saddle. There are your three. I think you are good.”
I appreciated her positive attitude, but I wasn’t so sure. I am not overly superstitious. But I am superstitious.
Today was a beautiful spring day in Idaho. The sun shone. The birds chirped. The maniac bird dog puppy ran around crazily with all manner of our personal belongings in his mouth.
Horsecrazy rode her wonderful horse Grumpy for a good couple of hours.
We got out my pretty, sweet bay mare, Spice, and Zach rode her. I took them both on a nice trail ride around the property.
On the way back we ran into our neighbor Kay. She is married to Vernon, who most recently helped us in capturing the escapted Little Black Pony Reno.
We love our neighbors. We stopped to visit. Annabelle grew tired of the talking and went back into the pen to lope around some more. Zach had to stay with me as I was leading his horse.
After Annabelle and Grump had loped for awhile I saw them meandering around the arena. Then I saw them wander into the pen next door, through the not-very-wide-gate. I talked some more. Then I heard a big crash. I looked over in horror.
Annabelle was still on her horse. But she was crying. She was crying very loudly. Then she jumped off her horse.
I noticed the saddle was missing a very important piece. The entire right stirrup.
I ran to my baby daughter, worried her foot might be somewhere with the missing stirrup.
She was fine. The gate was fine.
She had caught the stirrup on the bracket of the gate. It had torn the entire right fender off of the saddle.
Gate 1, Saddle 0.
Annabelle was very worried that she was in trouble. I assured her that accidents happen and she was not in trouble. She was still very worried. She thought her saddle was ruined forever.
It did look pretty bad.
I did the only thing a mom could do. I loaded up the kids and the broken saddle and drove to……..
All the way Annabelle cried off and on. She asked me to tell her all the stories of the silly things I did with horses when I was younger. That took pretty much the whole trip. I did some serious editing.
Bob was very sweet to my little girl. He told her that he had seen full grown adults do far worse things to their saddles.
He worked on her saddle for about fifteen minutes.
And handed it back over, just as good as new.
He charged Annabelle a quarter. She didn’t have one, so she still owes him. He gave her and Zachary some candy.
We love Bob Bean.
And we are very glad the third thing wasn’t so bad after all.