Beech Tree News Network

There’s a saying in journalism: If you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras.  I wish I could get this concept across to my family.  There are times when I find myself thinking, “Why would you think that?” or “That’s the first thing that entered your mind?  Really?”
    When I keep my granddaughter for my daughter, my daughter always calls to check on us.  If I don’t answer the phone, my daughter always thinks “zebras.”  Maybe the house is on fire, maybe she fell and they’re on the way to the hospital, maybe Mom fell and Sabria has the run of the house.  But it’s none of those.  It’s just “ horses.”  I was trying to get Sabria down for a nap and couldn’t answer the phone.  With that said, there was an incident a few years ago that made me long for the sound of zebras’ hooves.
 Garey bought a horse, a small palomino named Trigger.  Pretty horse, but not very user-friendly.  I believe Trigger suffered from separation anxiety, because he was always breaking out of the pasture to go in search of other horses.
    One day, Trigger had had enough of the solitary life and decided he’d make a run for the border.  He crossed from our pasture into our neighbor’s pasture.  Garey went after him, but came back about forty-five minutes later, sweating and out of breath.
    “Trigger’s at the far end of Noble B.’s big field,” Garey said.  “He’s in a thicket, and I need your help to run him this way.”
    About three-quarters of the way down the field, we split up in order to flank him on both sides, and get him to go in the direction of our pasture.  That was the plan.  That’s not what happened.  Seeing me as the weak link, Trigger bolted past me.  Garey and I continued after him, but we were no match for his speed, and we soon lost sight of him.
    All of a sudden, we started hearing cars and trucks honking their horns.  (Did I mention that our neighbor’s land adjoined Natcher Parkway?)  The next sound I heard made my heart stop.  It was the sound of Trigger’s hooves on the pavement, and let me tell you, there is nothing more frightening than the sound of your horse’s hooves on Natcher Parkway. 
    Garey bolted out ahead of me and was up and over the fence that runs along the parkway before I could snap out of my fear-induced stupor.  When I finally made my way up and onto the parkway, I wished I hadn’t.  Trigger was running south in the northbound lane.  I was on the southbound side.  Garey was on the northbound side, but there was no hope of chasing down a horse in Trigger’s adrenaline-pumped state. 
    I don’t know exactly where he came from, but suddenly the blue lights of a state trooper were headed in Trigger’s direction.  Trigger crossed the median and headed north with the trooper hot on his heels.  The trooper got close enough to the horse to give him a tap with his bumper.  It was enough to make the horse lose his footing and go skidding up and into the guard rail.
    It so happened that earlier in the week, one of Garey’s friends had told Garey about a technique that would help to settle down an unruly horse.  You simply pinch a horse’s nostrils together, cutting off enough air to make the horse woozy.  Garey remembered the information in time to use the technique on Trigger before he could get up and make a run for it.  He was able to get a rope attached to Trigger’s halter then lead him onto a cattle trailer that one of his friends had brought to the site. 
    Garey sold Trigger a few weeks later.  At the time, I would have gladly traded him in on a zebra.