What goes around, comes around

Yesterday I took Rachel out to ride her horse, and I got a healthy dose of karma for my trouble.

A few weeks ago we were out in the pasture and Rachel got zapped by the electric fence while she was nuzzling a horse. She made a big production out of it, and kept going on and on about how she felt like she had gotten punched in the arm. I've been zapped by a few electric fences in my time. Growing up I used to tag along with my cousin and feed apples to the horses at the farm near her home. Inevitably I got too close to the fence, and ZAP! Sure, it doesn't tickle but it isn't the end of the world either. So after some initial sympathy I smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and basically told her to suck it up.

Today when we arrived our horse was grazing on hay in the warm Fall sun. He wasn't in his usual pasture, and I reveled in the walk out to get him. The dappled sunlight filtering through the Fall leaves and the glisten of the water on the pond behind the horse was stunning. I wish I had the camera with me. It was that gorgeous. I'm telling you this because I need to blame what happened next on the fact that I was distracted by the natural beauty surrounding me.

I grabbed the plastic handle and opened the gate to the pasture. And then for some inexplicable reason I wrapped my hand around the metal hook that secures the fence rather than keeping my hand on the plastic handle. Unlike plastic, metal conducts the electrical current that runs through the fence. You know where this is going, right? I got a healthy zap delivered to all five fingers, plus the palm of my hand.

Unfortunately, ours was not the only horse in the pasture that day. The other horses were excited by the open gate and must have been thinking that they were going to be fed. Actually I have no idea what they were thinking, but they were headed for the open gate. They were probably coming closer to get a better view of the crazy woman trying electrocute herself. But the point is that I couldn't let go of the hook. You see, the hook is attached to the equivalent of a bungee cord. If I were to abruptly let it go it would either a) zing one of the horses in the face, or b) create a giant gap through which the horses could escape. So being the conscientious person that I am, I held on to the hook and got zapped again. I'm certain wisps of smoke were curling from my ears by the time I got the fence secured

Let's not talk about the fact that, in retrospect, I could've just moved my hand back on to the plastic part thereby avoiding the second zap.

At this point my entire arm was tingling and sensation in my palm seemed to have disappeared. Rachel, of course, was oblivious to the whole thing. She finally figured there was a problem when I was still standing rooted in the same spot, and she was halfway up the trail. When I explained what had happened she grinned from ear to ear. If I didn't know better I'd swear the horse was grinning, too. After all, I'm sure he's gotten his fair share of zaps over the years. Rachel asked if I was okay. And then she put her arm around my waist and said, "Jeez, Mom. It doesn't hurt that bad."

Karma's a b!&ch