To anyone who has parallel parked their stock trailer on the Courthouse square, or has navigated the stock trailer down a 6-lane interstate through rush hour traffic, you should know what I mean by those “get-me-outta-town” moments. It’s those moments when you just have to say “Really?!?, I just want to go back home!”

Well… Pistol and I have made it to the folks’ house and I’m gonna have to make a lil more effort to keep Pistol entertained. It’s was easy on the ranch, just load her up in the pickup and check cows. She was perfectly content to sleep away the afternoon in the floor of the John Deere. Even though dad has plenty of pasture, our auction barn is smack dab in the middle of town, and undoubtedly where most of the time will be spent on Sale Day and surrounding days.

I wasn’t even finished moving when I was already wishing to be “stuck” on a ranch somewhere. I was hauling most of my furniture in the stock trailer with the horses on back (come to find out some don’t find this “normal”, but at least I cleaned out the trailer and laid down tarps first), as I was pulling through a town square (population 3,900) a fire engine rolls up behind. So I pull into the turn lane and stop well before the intersection and stop light, thinking I’d give him plenty of room. Well, guess he was unaware, lacked the courtesy, or most likely follow protocol and blew his horn right on top of my horses. I about blew my top, the trailed rocked like crazy and I was just sure one of the horses (who isn’t exactly bomb proof) was gonna blow out the top or back gates. I mean seriously?!? I really don’t care what protocol is man, I gave you extra room for the intersection, was at a complete stop, and you have no courtesy for the livestock in the trailer right in front of your eyes. Get me outta town and pray the horses did not injure themselves trying to get away from that freight train.

This next one I found really humorous. I finally make it to the barn, unload the horses, and take the rest of my stuff down the road to the storage unit. I pull up and a truck is there loading up some stuff next to my unit. I just pull up beside and begin unloading my junk. It’s a mom with her college daughter, obviously getting ready to move back into a college apartment or sorority house (I say this only because she actually had her greek shirt on). As I’m unloading, we give customary “Hey, how are ya’ll today” and keep on working. In a few minutes the mom says “Now is that a real cow trailer” I say, “yes, ma’am. Sure is.” She asks where the cows are. “Well, we just dropped them off at the barn.” I could have had so much fun with this, but instead just had a good laugh to myself. You may have just had to be there, but here again I was pleading, Get me outta town.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my dad for giving me a place to stay and the chance at earning cash to cover the bills while I’m between jobs. But I think I speak for Pistol too when I say, I can’t wait to get outta town and back to a place where headquarters isn’t a block away from Main Street.