Several new reasons why I don't go near tequila

What a weekend. Check that...what a Saturday. Saturday morning I got up and went to eat a little breakfast, walked the dogs and then loaded them up for the 4.5 hour drive to Stephenville for the party. When I arrived at about 2:30, it was obvious that I was WAY behind the beer drinking leaders who had spent the previous night there. But hey, I'm not afraid to play catch up.

They had a real live taco truck there serving all the tasty cuisine you'd expect. I stuck with the fajitas...this was no time to start ordering some of the more exotic "off the menu" items. Did you know that sweet breads are neither sweet nor breads? Thanks, but I'll pass...I really don't care how good you say they are.

The music started at sundown with a friend of a friend playing his guitar and mandolin (not at the same time) and singing some original stuff and some songs that everyone knows. I was impressed. His closing number was a bluegrass remake of the classical composer Snoop Dog's "Sippin on Gin and Juice." It was hilarious! The older ladies in attendance were less than impressed.

Shortly after he finished, Billy Joe Shaver came on. He was such a personable guy. He made it a point to visit with everyone at the party. Molly even had a shot at retrieving a duck dummy he threw for her. I told him to make her sit and stay before he threw it...she did. It landed in the field and she waited for the signal to get it. When he gave it, she darted off and brought it back...to me. Good dog Molly.

Anyway, Billy Joe played for about 2 hours. He's got to be 70 years old, but he put on a great show for the small crowd. Some folks were dancing, not me. I don't dance. I prefer to enjoy the music and a cold adult beverage.

After the show was over, all the older folks headed back into town to their hotel room...this is where we get to the part about why I don't go near tequila...anymore. There was a streaker. There was a twenty-something girl who was eager to show off her new and improved "ladies." There was a donkey minding his own business until it became time to ride him. Said donkey wasn't into giving rides at 2 in the morning and decided to kick a guy...the streaker. No word yet on his condition...or the streaker's.

My night ended when Tess decided to start jacking with a mean ole cow dog that was content to sit back and watch all the activities. That dog laid into Tess and gave her a nice kiss just below her eye. Molly returned fire with some kisses of her own. Good girl Molly, again...extra bones for you. OK, time for bed. After the bleeding had stopped, I folded down my seats, blew up the air mattress and had a slumber party in the back of my car with one wounded dog and her new hero.

I awoke at 7ish on Sunday and let the dogs out to do their thing and got on the road as fast as I could. Its funny, the drive back didn't seem that bad. Its always nice to know you are headed back to someone you love, someone you know will comfort you when you aren't feeling all that grand, someone you know will be content to sit there and hold you until its all better again. Thank you, couch. What would I do without you?