THE USUAL NOTE FROM LB:
From the summer of 2002 to the spring of 2010, Gwen the Beautiful and I were the proud and often exhausted owners of a beautiful Ozarks property we called Cloud Creek Ranch.
In many ways, the ranch was paradise. But it was a paradise with a price that started going up before we even knew it existed. Here’s another Monday musing about our adventure and the lessons we learned.
Oh, and if y’all detect any irony, please believe me when I say it comes straight from the universe and not your kindly Uncle Larry B.
by Larry Brody
Some people believe very strongly that, “Folks can change.”
Others insist, “Nobody changes. They just fake it.”
Television and film, which are designed to reflect popular culture, show both sides.
On one hand we have television characters like Bobby Goren on Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Over the years, Goren has changed from a shy, brilliant criminal profiler and psychological manipulator of really rotten criminals to a self-doubting nut case whose arch-foe criminal genius knows exactly how to push his buttons and drive him over the edge.
And in film we’ve got “Han Solo,” who in the original Star Wars goes from uncaring wise guy making a colorful but illegal living to life-saving idealist who risks everything to destroy the Death Star.
On the other hand, on TV’s Dexter everyone’s favorite serial killer is always re-examining his life and tweaking his personality—until, slash! he reverts back to his original psycho self and carves up an evildoer because that’s just the kind of dude Dex is.
And in films the list of tough guys hanging up their guns, fists, or other preferred weapons while trying to lead ordinary lives only to return to their old ways includes just about every character played by Sylvester Stallone, the Governor Known as Ahnold, and so many others I don’t have room for their names.
In the real world, ministers, priests, rabbis, imams and such are the truest of believers in the ability to change your behavior and become a different kind of person, stressing how open the heavenly afterlife is to those who recognize the errors of their ways, make the necessary adjustments, and become better human beings.
But whenever I meet a recently divorced man or woman I know eventually the conversation will take a turn to “It’s impossible for people to change!” With the “proof” often being how many times someone’s ex swore up, down, sideways, and diagonally to change his or her ways, but—at least in the eyes of the person to whom I’m listening—never did.
What brings this to mind is a life drama Gwen the Beautiful and I have been watching play out on The Mountain.
No, not our own.
In fact, the participants aren’t even human.
As I’ve said before: I learn more about people from the animals here than I do from human beings. Because unlike all too many humans, most animals don’t hide their true natures.
Including Huck the Spotless Appaloosa and His Gal Rosie.
They are who they are.
And who they are definitely is a’changing.
Two years ago, when Rosie came into Huck’s life, she was a quiet little lady so eager to please man and beast that the couple we bought her from called her “Easy.”
Rosie was last in the pecking order of their dozen or so horses and became third in our tiny herd. After Elaine the Not So Wild Mustang died, Rosie’s personality began to alter as she moved up into Elaine’s place.
She’s still easy with humans, a pleasure under the saddle. And she still follows Huck in the most equine of ways, walking behind him wherever he goes. But aside from that, she definitely has come into her own.
Gwen and I see it every time we go into the corral. Rosie has gone from deferring to Huck in every way to standing up for herself and her wants and needs.
Huck: “Get away from My Brother Larry! He’s here to pet me!”
Original Rosie (sadly turning away): “Yessir!”
New Rosie (nose to nose with the much bigger guy): “He wants to pet me too!”
Huck: “Back off from the food. You can eat after I’m done.”
Original Rosie (sadly turning away): “Yessir!”
New Rosie (evading his nip and squealing): “I’m as hungry as you!”
When New Rosie first asserted herself, Huck was shocked. His response made him sound like Jackie Gleason as TV’s Ralph Kramden. “One of these days, Rosie. One of these days….”
But after awhile he did an amazing thing. He let it go.
“Rosie’s taught me so much,” he told me the other day. “Did you know that Bermuda hay isn’t for turning your nose up at but for digging your whole head into? And that trading lip nibbles with another horse is a whole lotta fun?
“I love her,” he said. “I love watching her grow.”
Huck’s tyrant days are over. He’s grown too.
Quite a change.
