Parenting requires Horse Sense!

Back in 1981, a few months before I turned eleven, I learned a life lesson that is only now beginning to become clear to me.

My family had moved down south from Chicago only a few years before.  We had just recently moved into the first (and only) house my parents ever bought as they had decided that the south eastern coastal town we currently lived in was where they wanted to retire.

As nice as it was, I don't think I ever truly fit in.  However, at the time, we were all still "misplaced Yankees that tawk funny" as I had been informed by someone who still to this very day is surprised the South lost the Civil War because "the Devil thinks he done beat Jesus.  But, we'll rise up!"

This post has nothing to do with anything other than how out of place we were in our new neighborhood and how the lesson I learned gives me a better understanding of current events in my life.

So, back to 1981.  We silly city slicker Yankees had the shock of our lives when a hardcore country boy from Kentucky, who went by the name of "Wild Bill" decided to give us a gift because he liked my Father so much.  My Dad really was a likeable guy.

Now, I'm guessing because he was from "the country" in Kentucky, Wild Bill (a giant of a man) had a different concept of "surprise gifts" than most people would think acceptable.  Sure, if you tell someone something like "hey I like that belt" they might give you a belt like that one day.  Yeah you might say something like "Nice hat.  I really like how the camouflage  blends in with the bass hooked to that fishing line on the front of the cap" and three days later BOOM you have a new fishing hat!

But, if you say "cool dog," that does not mean "hey man, get me a dog."   Don't worry, Ol' Billski didn't give us a dog; that'd be nuts.  On a side note, Bill also liked to put the suffix "ski" at the end of words to sound ironically Russian.  So, he would call my Mom "Momski" or dinner "foodski" or himself "Billski" which is still pretty irrelevant to the story but it tells you some more about Wild Bill-ski.

One day Bill pulled up in our driveway, with no indication he was even stopping by as I recall, in an old 1970's something Datsun pick up with a huge plywood cabin built on the back of it.  When he came to the door we were all surprised and excited to see him.  We were even more surprised when he said, "come on out here and see what I gotcha!"

As we stepped out a friend of Bills was escorting a little Tennessee Walker filly (young female horse) out of the back of his truck and into our back yard.  As it turns out, one day my Dad  apparently said something like "horses are neat" to Bill.  So, we got a horse.

She was black as night with a white star on her forehead and one white sock on a hind leg.  We named her Midnight Star because it was fitting and there wasn't a moderately famous R&B band that we would hear of for another few years.

 

My Midnight Star was no Freak-A-Zoid

At the time, I simply thought I was learning so much about horses.  It was an amazing experience.  We had her for years and I cherished every moment.  I would brush her, clean her, feed her, clean  her stall, walk her, spend my time with her.... All of which are great life long lessons about how to be a human being and treat all creatures, including other people, with respect.

However, that wasn't the most significant lesson or, at the very least, observation.  Yes, I learned to
show my love for another creature by caring for it and assisting it, but, what was most educational was what happened when the horse lived in our back yard.

When Midnight  was in the backyard and alone, she was quite often remarkably unpleasant to be around.  She didn't want anyone to make eye contact with her, talk to her, be near her or touch her, UNLESS you had food.  Then she would tolerate you.  But as soon as we moved her into a stable and she got around other horses, she was so pleasant and sweet!

That last paragraph almost perfectly describes raising a teenager.  For the most part, when they're alone, they are not to be trifled with unless you have food.  When they are with friends, they're pretty sociable.

I had no idea what I was learning raising a horse.

Left to Right:
Plywood stable/ horse transport, Wild Bill, a precious Me in a red denim jacket and white jeans,
The "Momski" & an annoyed tween disguised as a horsey!

If I just saved Godzilla, I hope he remembers me should he ever go all Rampagy one day.

I've learned some stuff on this very morning.  I had some miniature excitement going on for a bit that really thrilled the dog.  After the "thrill" was resolved I ran an extensive google search and learned that the Mediterranean House Gecko is a fairly common little critter in the South Eastern United States that is not only a non-native species introduced years ago but it is also something that exists.  I had absolutely never even heard of these things before this morning.

This is not my hand but is EXACTLY what I found.
Photo Credit http://racieb.deviantart.com/art/Baby-Gecko-24220779

My morning adrenaline rush began when I thought I saw a very large clear/ light tan spider darting around the blinds on my dining room window.  I grabbed my trusty can of bug spray and doused the area where I had seen the apparent arachnid of doom!  Luckily, I suck at aiming bug spray and missed my target.   As it moved again, my 46 year old presbyopia impaired eyes where able to convey to my brain "I don't know what it is, but that is no spider."  Then my brain went into a whole liberal/conservative bitch fest over "WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, SAVE IT" vs. "WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, KILL IT" debate for a few moments while my eyes tried to figure out how to focus on something so small that seemed to blend in so well with my blinds.  All the while my body was doing some sort of uncontrollable "is it on me, get it off, don't step on it and don't hurt it, unless it tries to hurt me" type dance while the dog pranced around as if I were about to throw a ball made of treats. 

I was finally able to make out a shape and decided it was some sort of see through lizard type thing, hopefully of the non-lethal type.  The "SAVE IT"s won.

This was the exact moment I learned that the first baby Mediterranean Gecko you find in your house is a traumatic rescue scenario.  Your sense of urgency to get this precious little angel outside feels like it's your mission in life. I scooped it onto a napkin and got it onto a dew drop covered leaf outside.

My morning education continued upon finding a second baby Mediterranean Gecko in my house.  It was a kind of pleasant surprise.  It was mostly like one of one of those "Oh look. It's another baby Mediterranean Gecko... In my house... Whaddya know... It's a good thing I still have my Mediterranean Gecko rescue napkin in hand... I guess?" type surprises.  I guess this was better than the whole "oh look, it's a Gecko; and he's got an insurance quote for me!"

 

"Pardon me, but, could you not spray bug spray at me?  Thanks mate."
You read that in his voice, didn't you?

I got it onto my gecko rescue napkin and I think I got it to a leaf.

Upon finding a third baby Mediterranean Gecko I reached more of an El Guapo-esque (finding out there are more than Three Amigos) "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE" frame of mind; it's on a leaf now as well.  

After all was said and done I started my google search about whatever type of critter invasion I was dealing with.  At this point I learned that there are typically only two baby Mediterranean Geckos per clutch.  So, in hindsight, the third one may have been the second one again.

If there are any more to be found I hope the dog "helps" them while I am work.

Look, today's post started out as my personal Facebook status but was obviously far too long.  So, I made it a blog post that I thought I'd publish.  I have continued to write over the years but hardly ever publish so much.  I don't know why.  Just enjoy learning something.  I have.