THE ILLUSION OF CONTROL

This seems to happen to all of us at different times in our lives

You notice, just out of the corner of your eye a shopping cart beginning to run down the slope... and then you realize it is YOUR shopping cart full of $235 worth of your family's meals.

You see a group of kids climbing to a dangerous height in the local oak tree... and then you recognize that the child serving as the ringleader and highest climber is YOURS.

Your nose wrinkles as you smell something disgusting... and then become conscious that it is emanating from YOUR baby like evil death rays from an alien's weapon.

Tonight I had one of those experience.

I saw a beautiful black and white horse galloping wild and free across an open field.

Unfortunately, it was MY horse, completely out of control, racing about a half mile away in the opposite direction.

Both horses have been reasonably well-behaved walking a ways down the road with me and then grazing for a half hour on the sparse growth that exploded out of our sand from the latest 0.000035 inch downpour of moisture (in other words, completely symbolic rain that still encourages what plant-life we have to germinate - it's an Arizonan thing).

So I felt comfortable about taking them out right after sunset in the falling light to munch a little bit of greenery.

Silly me.

My horse, Najale, suddenly decided about half-way to our regular grazing point, that he needed to go on a little field trip.

All by himself.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with horses, control of a 800+ lb. animal is 98% mental.

You have to convince them that:

1) you are smarter,

2) you are the one who makes all decisions in the relationship, and

3) you are in control of every single situation.

(Hmm... sounds depressingly like the husband-role in the 50's)

Unfortunately, my horse occasionally doesn't think my controlling decisions are very smart, and once he jerks control out of my hand (the lead rope attached to his halter), there really isn't much I can do.

Thankfully, he has always come back... eventually.

And he did tonight... after galloping around two neighbors' houses, getting one other local horse into hysterics trying to join him, and driving the mare (who I was now somewhat desperately holding onto) into a whinnying frenzy trying to join him.

At least my neighbors got a nice show to watch this evening.