We cannot direct the wind…

but we can adjust the sails. – Dolly Parton

Recently the ranch where I keep my horses embarked on a new adventure. The soon-to-be wife of the owner has always wanted to have mini highland cows. So, after finding a breeder to buy from, the ranch underwent some renovations and a corner of the property was appropriately carved out and fenced, and a small older barn was fixed up into what is now affectionately called “The Cow Palace”, complete with crystal chandelier.

Three goats who were already living in a small pen on the property were moved into the new space prior to the arrival of the cows and probably wondered what they did to deserve such palatial accommodations.

While our crew was anticipating the arrival of our new furry friends and preparing by buying look-alike plushies and ice cube molds shaped like highland cows, not everyone shared our excitement. Concerns were voiced about more manure, more flies, potential predators, and horses freaking out about the little intruders.

Not that their concerns aren’t valid, but sometimes you have to learn to go with the flow and trust everything will work out.

Change does happen, whether you want it to or not.

When the day came, some of us were on hand for the arrival of the new hairy inhabitants. The driver who hauled them clearly knew what he was doing. While I pictured us trying to shoo them into the barn while they ran willy-nilly, he created a chute for them to go straight down the truck ramp and into the barn. After some hesitation, they took their first leap from the truck, looking wide eyed and mildly panicked by all the attention, and ran straight into their new digs. We stayed for hours watching them, waiting for them to relax, and occupying ourselves by playing with the goats in the meantime. Or at least two out of three of the goats.

You see, there is one goat - the smallest of course - named Midnight. She is notorious for headbutting people when they’re not looking. And she headbutts hard. As proof I have an ample bruise on my back where she caught me sitting on a bucket and not looking. I won’t make that mistake again. Around Midnight, I’ve learned to stay on guard.

The cows, all named after rock stars, settled in almost immediately. But The Cow Palace and it’s pasture are right next to paddocks we use to turn out some of our horses. They were going to need introduction to their new neighbors. So, in the interest of everyone’s sanity and safety, our trainer introduced each horse one at a time.

We expected our giant gorgeous goofball named Westley to have the biggest reaction. Our trainer gloved up to prevent any potential rope burn and took him into the closest paddock. Meanwhile, I played livestock wrangler and did my best to push some of the cows out of the barn and into the pasture where Westley could see them. I shooed the goats toward him as well – keeping an eye on Midnight of course.

The cows, who had been happily relaxing and enjoying the cool shade of the barn, were none too thrilled with the idea of heading out into the hot sun. Prince, the largest bull, was unmovable and he’s got decent sized horns, so I let him be while I focused on the others. The smallest cow, Madonna, was hiding behind Prince and not budging, while the matching blonde highlands, Elvis and Elton, were too quick for me and evaded all my attempts. I was successful in getting Stevie (Nicks) out the door and Dolly, with her usual grace, made an appearance.

As predicted, Westley freaked out and ran backwards. No rope burns – thank you, gloves – but he wasn’t having it. There was a distinct “OH. HELL. NO. NOPE NOPE NOPE” in his reaction. We moved him into a farther paddock for the day where he could view them from a distance and hopefully get used to them. He stood at the corner of his paddock, head high and on a swivel, watching the pasture with suspicion and distrust.

The next biggest reaction, unsurprisingly, was from the diva mare, Dia. But hers was less fear and more “I’ll kick their little asses if they so much as look at me” energy.

But generally, most reactions from the horses were mild. My Ty seemed really pleased. Like he wanted to go play with the little fuzzballs. I can only surmise he grew up around livestock during his youth in Holland.

Trudy was so nonplussed we just let her stay in the closest paddock. She looked at us like, “This is what you brought me out to see? Yeah, so?” She basically rolled her eyes and shook her head at the silly humans who seem to never have seen cows before.

Not gonna lie, I was proud of my kids. Rolling with the change, going with the flow.

Maybe they get that from me. Personally, I’m usually okay with change but I do understand worrying. It is tough when you feel settled, maybe for the first time in a long time, and someone comes along and messes with your mellow.

I’ve had so much change in my life that I like to think I’ve learned to handle it well, but I know that’s not always true. While I’ve kept myself moving through the intense changes I’ve experienced in the last three years, there are aspects of my life where I’ve found myself frozen. Like a deer caught in headlights and unable to move, no matter how much I needed to.

My house is a good example. I bought it – big change. I moved into it, mostly, and added a significant commute to my workday – big change. And then I got laid off – whopper of a change.

Through those changes and more I kept moving except for one thing – creating a home. I never truly finished unpacking and getting settled.

Like I said: Frozen.

Now there is a lot behind this, I am sure. I suspect fear that I wouldn’t be able to stay in it having lost a steady stream of income was at the heart of it. I’d arranged time with a friend who was trying to help me through this, but I’d canceled on her so many times. No matter what, I couldn’t seem to settle in my own palace.

I could see what I was doing, I could feel I was stuck, but until you’re ready to unfreeze, you just can’t.

And that’s okay. Growth happens when you’re ready.

Last month, my friend – the same friend I canceled on all those times - came and stayed for three days. We made substantial progress on my house, and I even had a cleaning crew come in and spiff the place up so I could lay rugs on clean floors and hang art on clean walls. The things you do when you, you know, SETTLE into a new house.

I blinked and snapped out of it. I was going to say “finally” but that feels like putting a time limit, a measurement, a judgement on myself. And right now, I don’t feel that way.

Look, in the last three years, I broke my back and a bunch of other bones, had surgery, lost my uncle, lost my brother, bought my first house, moved, and lost my job. I think it’s okay that I glitched a little.

Change happened. And I flowed the best I could, until I couldn’t, and then I could.

And that’s when growth happens.

Prince, Madonna, Stevie, Dolly, Elton, and Elvis have settled in nicely under the crystal chandelier of The Cow Palace. As have the goats – except perhaps for Midnight who would prefer less petting, more headbutting. And in the paddocks, the horses pay very little attention to them at all – apart from Westley who is still deeply unimpressed. And I have settled into being me.

It feels so good to finally be home.