Here’s the part of the story I shouldn’t share.  Someone stop me.  Oh no–here I go.  But before you read, please realize I wasn’t trying to be an insensitive ogre.  It just accidentally happened.  Really!! Please don’t be mad or write me hate mail.  I’m sorry.

So we had Dollar in the trailer all the way to the back. (Dollar is not alive at this point.)  It was a discreet set up.  For all anyone knew, there was nothing in there. There was a giant pumpkin box blocking the view into that section of the trailer.  Our cooler was in the section closest to the door.   We went into Wal*Mart to get the kids’ hunting licenses and some ice.  (Truck was parked behind WM in the automotive section–least busy place he could find.) As our four children were loading up and Max and I were putting the ice in the cooler, the Wal*Mart security car pulled up. The lady driving excitedly asked if we had a horse in it.

Folks, this is one of those instances when lying would have been WAY better than telling the truth.  This is what I should have said.  ”Nope.  Not a thing.  Just a cooler.  We like to haul our food in a horse trailer.” Or perhaps I should have said, “Ma’am, please don’t get out of your vehicle. There is nothing to see.”  But I wasn’t that smooth.  I was completely taken off guard by her question.  We did have a horse in there.

Security guard:  *giddy smile* Do you have a horse in there?

Michelle: *sad nod* Yes, a dead one.

I know!  What in the world was I thinking?!  I clearly wasn’t.  I just wasn’t.  And I didn’t have time to explain why we had a dead horse in our trailer because this is what she did:

• gasped!  (a loud, horrified gasp–no exaggeration!)
• grabbed her mouth as if to suppress vomit
• stared straight ahead
• sped off

I didn’t get to tell her that we loved Dollar, that he reminded me of Donkey from Shrek.  That he was sweet with kiddos and a pleasure to have around.  That a vet decided he was too miserable and needed to be put down.  That we were taking him to our family cattle ranch to be buried.  That really, truly we loved our horses and didn’t make a habit out of driving them around while dead.  None of that took place.  Instead, I had my husband laughing hysterically because I was stupid enough to tell her the truth.  That we looked like nut jobs.  That I tortured a poor woman who only wanted to get a look at a horse–a LIVING horse!  It was such a bizarre experience that the only thing I knew to do was to laugh.

And then we got the heck out of Dodge!!!

Ms. Security Guard, please accept my apology.  I hope I didn’t ruin your whole day with my insensitive response.

And our chubby boy now.
LIfe is good.