"Paradise Ranch"

By: Melissa Gause

The afternoon wind was blowing through the orange colored trees at my little ranch in Mississippi. My poppa raises horses here and ever since I was a little boy, horses have been a big part of my life. I started riding when I was 4 years old. Being on top of a brown bucking creature was what I looked forward to. To me this was paradise, and I never wanted to leave.

My poppa was a hard working, young father. He was caring and supportive, and never quit until the job was done. This would mean coming inside to bed at 3 in the morning once in awhile. I remember him always saying, "Son, there is no such thing as good sleep until you know all the work is done." He would say that even though he never let me help him. I was always "too young" to haul hay or "too young" to clean the horses. Having no siblings made this tough to occupy my time. So what I always did was hop on a horse and ride it to wherever it would take me.

When I hit age 10, poppa decided to give me what I always wanted, a job to do on the ranch, working beside my poppa. I remember him handing me the keys to our old, rusty 4- wheeler. I bet the light in my eyes nearly blinded him when he gave me the keys. "Driving a 4 wheeler is only for responsible people," my poppa would always say. Him giving me the keys let me know that he thought I was responsible and more mature.

I just imagined what I could do with this 4 wheeler. Maybe I would round up all the horses or haul tools and equipment to my poppa. My image was wiped away after the next thing my poppa handed me was a bucket and a shovel. He wanted me to scoop up all the manure because he needed it to fertilize his new soil behind the ranch. Little did I know this responsibility would change my life forever.

I know you’re probably thinking I broke a bone or did something wrong, but that is not it at all. As I was curiously scooping manure, I spotted a little dirt patch I had never noticed. It was a mysterious mound of dark soil that screamed out at me to dig and explore. As I used the manure covered shovel to scoop the dirt, I saw a peculiar object. A huge whitish doggy bone was all I found. I kept digging in frustration but I found nothing. Disappointed I drove back to the ranch, doggy bone in hand, and called it a day.

Later on that night I heard my poppa yelling my name " Tanner, get your skinny white behind down here!" Worried I had failed to do my job correctly; I nervously walked down the stairs to find my poppa holding the doggy bone I had just found. "What is this?" he asked me.

"Just an old bone I found while working today," I replied.

"Just an old bone, Tanner, this is an old bone alright. It’s the old leg bone of a dinosaur!"

My poppa had been really interested in dinosaurs when he was younger. He knew absolutely everything about them, so I knew he was correct when he said this was the leg bone of a raptor. The next morning we jumped into our ’57 Chevy truck and drove into town. The museum took the bone and our names and said they would get back to us when they had any information on our discovery.

Sure enough a week later, we got a phone call from the museum. The raptor leg was the only missing bone from the famous model of the dinosaur in New York City. The museum said they would offer us $800,000 for the bone! Without hesitation my poppa accepted the offer. I’ll never forget the feeling I had when my poppa told me we were leaving the ranch forever. He told me we were going to live in New York City and he was going to sell the ranch. He expected me to be happy, but the ranch was the only home I knew. The thought of never riding a horse again flashed through my head. I didn’t expect my curiosity of a patch of dirt would take me away from my paradise.

The look in my eyes must have reflected to my poppa because the next thing I knew, he was on the phone refusing to move to New York City. My poppa realized his home was here on the ranch as well. He didn’t turn the money down though, so needless to say my job was taken over by plenty of helpers we hired to help at the ranch. Even though my dad didn’t work as much, we still rode horses together and woke up to the smell of hay and dust. I now knew that money can’t make you happy, the people you love and the place you call home is what makes you happy.