Choose Carefully

Image by Greg Joens

Sunday, having finally achieved some bit of control over my newest asthma challenge, John and I decided to take an outing to celebrate. We took a drive through the gently rolling hills in Oregon's beautiful wine country with a casino as our destination.

We had a gift certificate for a couple of free dinners, woo hoo.

As we drove along, we were laughing while remembering my mother-in-law's advice - she always said that one was assured good luck at a casino if you saw a white horse while driving there.

Of course, the route to her local casino took her past a farm that owned a lovely white horse. Maybe even two, if I recall. In a pasture located directly next to the road.

Handy.

So we were discussing our own symbols of good luck as we drove along. John had chosen a soaring hawk. Powerful. Graceful. Aggressive. Excellent choice. I thought it suited him perfectly.

But, as so often happens, my choice - made on a trip with my friend Bev - is just plain strange. Bev and I were on an outing during which I told her about my mother in law's white horse story. Bev laughed and asked what my good luck symbol was. I told her I didn't have one since I rarely had good luck at any casino, with the example of my concussion in a strange turn of events during my last trip to Las Vegas as proof.

"Well," she said. "Girl. That's your problem right there. You need to pick something to bring you good luck!"

At that point in our conversation we were driving along past a buffalo ranch. Of all things. I looked over at the bison and said, "Hey! Isn't the buffalo nickel a coin? How about a buffalo? A big animal that symbolizes money! Big money! How perfect is that?"

I pointed at the nearest buffalo. He was magnificent - absolutely huge and staring at us fearlessly while shaking his massive horned head. "That's the one. That's my guy!" We both agreed that I had made a spectacular choice.

So my very own specially chosen symbol of good fortune decided at that exact point to raise his tail and erm.....well, he made a giant buffalo poop.

We laughed until we cried. Yeeeaaaahhh.

MY lucky mascot is a pooping buffalo.

Of course.