The pink lace bra

Tonight, 2 of my horses are being treated like felons and are in jail. Well, in the foaling pen, which is not very big, but very secure. I am about to have a stroke!
30 minutes before this all went down, these boys were up by my rv. Then I went to say goodnight and feed the horses. It would be dark soon. They didn’t come when I called. I went out on the almost 7 acres of mixed trees, hills, blackberries and grass that is my so called ‘pasture’ for them. I am calling, walking all over looking.
Yesterday My husband and I cut all the blackberries and other brush off the electric fence line. The electric fence was all intact. I asked my dog grey to “go find Rocky.” She went right to a hole in the barbed wire fence on the farthest side of the property. Now, the other horses have been in this pasture for 3 years. They were never able to even GET to where the barbed wire is. There is/was a natural barricade of black berries, nettles and all that assorted flora we get in western WA . These 2 turds ate and stomped their way through the brush, and the wire fence. It is old and probably didn’t put up as much fight as the blackberries did.
I am scrambling down the hill, in sandals and pajamas, hollering their names, tripping and falling every few steps through blackberries, nettles, and assorted brush and roots. I can hear the little darlings running up and down the road. So I finally catch up to them, my neighbor who has the goats, she is trying to convince them to wait for me. (I dont run. I cannot physically run. I have a plastic knee cap, a bunch of pins, screws and plates one DR calls a “metal appliance” in my left leg as well. And I was already sore as heck from falling down yesterday when cutting down blackberries. Yes, you guessed it, into the blackberries.)
I finally catch up to them. I had earlier in the day taken off their halters, as they had learned to stay away from the electric wire. ( I had just moved them to this field yesterday) I do not have so much as a hay string. Not even a draw string in my pj bottoms. Luckily I still had my bra on or I would have had to choose between my pj bottoms or my top. So the pretty pink bra goes around Rockys neck. It just fits. Who knew? My chest is the same size as Rockys throat latch. He wears a 36DDD. Hmmm.
I finally get them home and the neighbor I got them from, ( of course it is a guy) pulls in to see if every one is ok. I am trying to be casual, but I really don’t know how. I have my arms crossed and spit out, “I didn’t have a rope so I used my bra!” Rocky is pure black, so the pink lacy bra around his neck is very noticeable.
I really don’t know which of us is more uncomfortable at this point.
I am completely out of breath. My pink bra is around Rockys neck, and the girls are flapping around under my tee shirt.
Both neighbors are now convinced I am completely crazy. But they should all have concluded that because I have lived here a couple years now. They leave.
I got my pulse down to 105 from 118, so maybe I won’t have a stroke tonight.
The horses? Oh they are fine! Fred has one minor new scratch on him. Not even bloody. Just lost some hair. Me? Pjs full of tiny burrs, and holes, garbage bound.. Several new bruises, a finger nail busted off to the quick and bloody. Big scratch across my face. Tops of my feet and ankles torn to bloody hamburger from the nettles and blackberries, and i somehow ripped the armpit out of my tee shirt and scrapped up my under arm. Thats a new pain.
And now I have no idea what I did with my pink bra when I took it off Rocky. I am sure it will turn up when most likely to have an audience and mortify me.

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