The Blob vs. The Barrel

It was hot that day. Had I wanted eggs for breakfast I could have gone outside and cracked them on the road. I was working at a horse camp, in the middle of Texas, in the middle of summer, in the middle of the day. It was the Blob’s turn (known as Priscilla to her parents) and she didn’t want to trot Lady (the most beautiful chestnut Paint mare I have ever seen) around the barrels.
This was a normal problem I had with the Blob. She loved horses and loved playing around them but she didn’t like to go faster than a walk on the horses. That was one of the many reasons why we called her ‘The Blob’. She was a blob of multiple emotions, actions, and ideas. She was completely confusing. For such a short silly girl as she was, her confidence and competitiveness could have beaten Kilimanjaro in size. Off the horse, she would try to neat everyone I every game. On the horse, however, she wouldn’t move. I wanted her to trot the barrels to help her get over her fear. I had seen other kids do it, why not her?
When she said to me, “I’ll do it only if you run along with me.” I was the one with the fear. It was 110 degrees and she was likely to push my bare skinned arm into the boiling barrel. There would be no denim to protect my arm as it does ones leg when safely seated in the saddle. I had already burned my forearm on stream and I wasn’t ready to test fate and come home with gauze covering every area of my injured arm.
Before we set out, I gave one of my campers the cold blue burn gel and told him, “Have it ready in case you hear a puppy dog yip. You’ll know it when you hear it.” A puppy dog yip is my signature sound signaling my surprise.
Later that day, I told the Blob’s, I mean Priscilla’s, mom how well she did trotting by herself.
Later that night, I thanked God that my arm wasn’t injured.
Later that week, the Blob helped to win the team a first place trophy by loping the barrels.
Later in life, I looked back on that week and learned to go through with something, even if it’s something I fear. It might not be worth the worry.