It’s waiting to be expressed, for the words to be formulated in a mind and verbalized for ears to hear. It is the Negative Thing.

So, yeah, a month or so ago a guy came into the office and mentioned that I hadn’t written about mice lately. Then I was invaded.

A few weeks back The Redhead sistah dropped off a horse for me to ride and sell. We discussed turning him out with my two yahoos, but I was reticent because I didn’t want anyone getting hurt I said. Then Jilly (without help from anyone) cut her leg — not bad, thankfully, but enough to lay her off work for a week or so. Then my little paint Charlie wanged her head on something in her pen splitting open her brow ridge and swelling her eye shut. She looked like she lost the heavy weight championship of the world. Today I can see a full half-inch of her eyeball.

And then I wrote a two-part column on rattlesnakes … guess what I got to kill this morning in my arena while I was out spraying weeds. Thanks for the adrenaline rush, universe.

Friday’s column was about New York City’s Naked Cowboy controversy. I’d like to think that the universe will treat me to the view of a hunky, for reals, naked cowboy. But I have this feeling that all I’ll be getting is the view of some nasty guy’s buttcrack. Or worse, I’ll have a clothing malfunction in town and some poor unsuspecting cowboy will be witness to the event and wishing he could stab out his retinas to get the image out of his mind.

Universe is wicked-ironic these days at: pam(at)