As many of you may have seen via my Facebook this week, our little guy Gus was kicked by our neighbors' horse this past weekend.
So, I always pictured myself as the person who would be calm, cool and collected when my "kid" was hurt...it's how I was when Carrie and Sam were little and I just assumed I'd be the same with my own kids.
Um, not at all!
This is the second time Gus has been hurt and both times, I've been hysterical in half of a second! Both times, Chance has been the calm one who has grabbed him up to see if he's OK...not me. The first time, we were up in Manhattan at the ranch, and were driving the 4-wheeler (Ranger) up the driveway. He decided to jump out the back (and we weren't going slow!) and he just rolled on the ground. When he got up, he was twitching and his neck was bent funny. I was literally crying before I could even get to him! This time with the horse wasn't any better, except this time I was halfway across the pasture and was holding onto my horse. I dragged poor Slate across the pasture at a sprint because I was crying before Chance even got him dragged back onto our side of the fence.
Way to go me - the responsible parent who can think fast and come to the rescue...NOT!
It's been a bit unnerving, I have to admit, to realize my "freak-out" switch can be tripped so easily. Maybe, no hopefully, I'll be able to get my crap together before actual children show up...we'll see.
Isn't he just the cutest thing ever?!?
By the way, Gus is completely fine. We took him to the vet on Monday morning to have x-rays done, and he just has a very bad bruise. He's back to running around and playing with Cinch like normal. Does he still hold his leg up when he knows I'm looking and milk it? Why of course!! Gotta love him:)
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