Everyone knows the child’s game of hide and go seek only too well and I guess this story is about as close to the adult’s version of that beloved children’s game as one can get.
On this day, some friends of mine, my daughter and I helped my brother round up his cattle that fall in the home fields so that they could get the calves to the sale corrals.
After that though, since our horses were already saddled, we all decided to go for a nice relaxing ride up the mountain behind my parent’s ranch.
My daughter and I rode along most of the way until she said her butt was starting to get sore. I agreed that we could turn and go back, leaving our friends to continue riding.
As my daughter and I rode back, we noted a jeep coming around the corner near our spring. As soon as we saw it, the driver must have seen us for they turned and sped up the draw to the right.
I smiled to myself for I knew that was a dead end draw. “Let’s go.” I said to my daughter as I kicked my colt into a trot her gelding kept up in his easy long stridded jog.
“Who are they?” She asked.
“Trespassers.” I said as we neared the spot they had turned at.
We slowed to a walk and started up the draw after them. I knew they could not have gone very far. As we turned a small bend in the dead end road, I was right, there they were.
They had broken a bunch of branches off the trees and covered their jeep with them in hopes of hiding from us. Bent their license plate up so I couldn’t read it and shut off the engine.
They were hiding. (How cute.) I almost wanted to say found you, as I rode up to the window and stopped. (However, I decided against it.)
The man hesitantly rolled down his window.
“Yeah.” He said.
“I am sure you know you are trespassing.” I said.
“No, I didn’t.” The man lied. “But I know no one lives here.”
Well I knew the man was right it was true that no one lived in my parent’s old place, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t on my land.
“I don’t care what you think you know but what you need to know is that you need to get off my land as real quick.” I said.
“Yeah, this isn’t your place.” My six-year-old daughter chimed in.
“Can we get permission to hunt up here?” The passenger asked.
“No, but if you don’t leave right now I will give you permission to be buried up here.” I said.
“There is one grave up here already.” My daughter chimed in again.
I couldn’t help but smile, she was right after all. My Dad’s grave was up there but she left out who the grave was for, instead it sounded like it was the last trespasser that we just happened to bury randomly.
The man started his vehicle and drove off quickly. I turned to my daughter and smiled.
“You are learning well, my child.” I said.
“You are too, Mom.” She replied.
“What do you mean, I am too?” I asked.
“You didn’t even cuss at them, once, Mom.” She said as if honestly astonished. (Who knows, maybe she was.)
“What do you want to do now?” I asked my daughter with a smile.
“Find some more hiding trespassers, that was really fun. This time I want to yell at them.” She innocently said.
I guess the moral of this story is if you hide from me I will find you and my daughter will lecture you.













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