{"id":108483,"date":"2025-04-19T12:09:35","date_gmt":"2025-04-19T05:09:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/?p=108483"},"modified":"2025-04-19T12:09:35","modified_gmt":"2025-04-19T05:09:35","slug":"they-think-im-just-a-cowgirl-barbie-but-i-run-this-whole-damn-ranch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/they-think-im-just-a-cowgirl-barbie-but-i-run-this-whole-damn-ranch\/","title":{"rendered":"THEY THINK I\u2019M JUST A \u201cCOWGIRL BARBIE\u201d\u2014BUT I RUN THIS WHOLE DAMN RANCH"},"content":{"rendered":"

I don\u2019t usually get riled up about strangers, but today? I damn near snapped.\n

It started at the feed store. I was picking up mineral blocks and fencing wire, wearing my usual\u2014mud-caked boots, faded jeans, and yeah, my long blonde braid tucked under a beat-up ball cap. The guy at the counter gave me this look like I was lost. Asked if I needed directions to the gift shop.\n

I said, \u201cNah, just here to buy the same stuff I\u2019ve been buying every week for ten years.\u201d\n

He laughed. Laughed.\n

Then he asked if my \u201chusband\u201d would be loading the truck.\n

I told him my husband left five years ago and the cows didn\u2019t seem to care. I run 240 acres on my own. Fix broken water lines, birth calves at 2 a.m., haul hay like it\u2019s nothing. But people still see the blonde hair and the woman part and just\u2026 assume.\n

Even my neighbors treat me like I\u2019m playing rancher. Roy, the guy across the creek, keeps \u201cchecking in\u201d on my fences like I didn\u2019t graduate top of my ag science class. He\u2019ll say things like, \u201cDon\u2019t overwork yourself, sweetheart.\u201d Meanwhile, I patched his busted water line last winter in the middle of a snowstorm.\n

I try to let it roll off, but it builds up. You get tired of proving yourself twice just to be seen as half capable.\n

Then today, after all that, I got home and found a letter nailed to my barn door. No stamp. No return name. Just a folded-up note that said one thing:\n

\u201cI know what you did with the west pasture.\u201d\n

I read those words about five times. They hit me like a stiff wind at the top of the ridge. The west pasture\u2019s my pride and joy\u2014thirty acres of grazing land that I\u2019ve been painstakingly restoring for nearly a year. When my ex-husband left, the fence lines were trashed, soil was eroded, and there were gaping holes where we had tested out some half-baked irrigation plan. I poured my heart into that patch, reseeding it, fertilizing, and fixing the water system so the grass would come back strong. Now it\u2019s lush and green as any photograph in a ranching magazine.\n

I couldn\u2019t imagine what \u201cI know what you did with the west pasture\u201d was supposed to mean. Maybe it was some prank by local teenagers. Or maybe Roy left it, trying to get me rattled. The man\u2019s about as friendly as a prickly pear sometimes, but writing ominous notes isn\u2019t exactly his style. Then again, I couldn\u2019t think of anyone else with enough interest in my operation to leave a cryptic message on my barn.\n

$\"\"$ \n

I stuffed the letter in my back pocket and tried to move on with my day. I had chores to do, animals to feed, phone calls to make. But that note kept popping into my head like a stubborn weed. By late afternoon, I realized I wasn\u2019t gonna be able to focus until I got some answers. So I did the only logical thing I could think of: hopped in my old truck and drove across the creek to Roy\u2019s place.\n

Roy was out by his workshop when I rolled up. He saw me stepping out of the truck, started waving, then noticed my face was dead serious and let his arm drop.\n

\u201cHey there,\u201d he called. \u201cEverything okay?\u201d\n

I held up the note, now crinkled from being in my pocket. \u201cThis ring any bells?\u201d\n

He squinted at the words. \u201cNope. You say somebody left that at your place?\u201d\n

\u201cNailed it to my barn door.\u201d\n

\u201cStrange.\u201d He scratched the stubble on his chin. \u201cYou ask old man Garrison if he\u2019s messing with you?\u201d\n

Old man Garrison was another neighbor, famous for being cantankerous. He gripes about folks crossing his property lines even when they\u2019re nowhere near them. Still, it didn\u2019t feel like him. He\u2019d just come right up and cuss you out if he had a problem.\n

I shook my head. \u201cNot yet. Figured I\u2019d start with you.\u201d\n

Roy frowned. \u201cWell, not me. Not my style.\u201d Then his frown turned into something a little more thoughtful. \u201cBut I do know there\u2019s been talk that you\u2019ve got some new buyer lined up for your heifers.\u201d\n

I let out a low whistle. \u201cWord travels fast in these parts. Yeah, I\u2019ve been thinking about switching to a different buyer\u2014my current contract ain\u2019t exactly paying top dollar. But that\u2019s none of anybody\u2019s business.\u201d\n

He shrugged. \u201cYou know how folks gossip. Anyway, I\u2019m telling you straight: wasn\u2019t me. Wish I could help more.\u201d Then he cleared his throat. \u201cUh, since you\u2019re here, you need help with anything?\u201d\n

I almost laughed at the irony. He was genuinely offering help\u2014probably the only time in our neighborly history that he wasn\u2019t condescending. I realized I shouldn\u2019t take my frustration out on him. Roy was complicated, but I could see he cared in his own way. Still, I told him thanks but no thanks. I wanted to figure this problem out on my own.\n

The next morning started off normal enough. I did my usual sunrise routine: fed the chickens, checked on the main herd, and walked the fence line with my dog, Pepper. Pepper\u2019s a stocky Australian Shepherd mix who goes everywhere with me. She\u2019s protective, especially after we had a coyote problem last year. She trotted alongside me, tail wagging in the early morning sun.\n

I was halfway across the west pasture when I saw fresh footprints pressed into the damp soil by the pond. They weren\u2019t mine, and they weren\u2019t Roy\u2019s\u2014he\u2019s got a heavier stride and usually leaves deeper imprints. These looked smaller, like someone maybe my size had been there. But I hadn\u2019t been out that way in at least two days, so who on earth was poking around?\n

Pepper sniffed the ground, then let out a low growl. It set my nerves on edge. I ran back to the barn to see if another note was left. Nothing. But the barn door looked scratched, like someone had tried to pry the nails off. It was subtle, not enough to do real damage, but it was definitely something new.\n

My heart pounded. This was no teenage prank. Someone was snooping, trying to scare me\u2014or worse. And for the first time in a while, I actually felt\u2026 uneasy. But I\u2019d worked too hard to build my life here to be run off by a few weird threats.\n

That evening, I made a quick trip into town to grab a bite at the local diner and pick up some extra locks for the barn. While I was there, I ran into my friend Lucia. She\u2019s got her own place about ten miles up the road\u2014a dairy farm that she\u2019s turned into a thriving business. She asked how I was doing, and before I even knew it, I blurted out the whole story: the letter, the footprints, the weird scratches on the barn. She listened closely, her eyes narrowing when I told her about the note\u2019s message.\n

Lucia put down her coffee cup and said, \u201cAre you sure it\u2019s not someone from your ex\u2019s family? Maybe they\u2019re trying to stake some claim.\u201d\n

I paused. My ex-husband wasn\u2019t originally from around here, but he had a few acquaintances in neighboring counties. Still, he\u2019d never shown an ounce of interest in the ranch since he left. To my knowledge, neither had his people. It felt like a stretch.\n

\u201cI\u2019m not sure of anything,\u201d I admitted. \u201cBut I don\u2019t have time for games.\u201d\n

Lucia patted my shoulder. \u201cHang in there. If you need backup, let me know. I\u2019ll come camp out in that west pasture and scare the daylights out of any trespassers.\u201d\n

I appreciated her offer. Just knowing someone had my back put me at ease.\n

I drove home under a clear sky filled with stars. The moon lit up the ranch lands like a nighttime postcard. But as soon as I turned onto my long gravel driveway, I spotted movement by the main barn. My headlights illuminated a figure crouched near the side door, fiddling with something. My stomach lurched.\n

I slammed on the brakes, jumped out, and yelled, \u201cHey!\u201d Pepper bounded out behind me, barking like crazy. The figure scrambled to their feet and took off across the pasture, hopped my fence in one fluid motion, and disappeared into the dark. All I saw was a flash of a slender build and maybe dark hair, but I couldn\u2019t be sure. My chest was heaving, adrenaline pumping. Whoever it was had been trying to pry the side door open. The lock was half undone, fresh scratches scoring the metal.\n

I marched inside, locked myself in, and leaned against the door to catch my breath. My mind was a raging storm of questions. Why target me? Was it about money? Land? Some personal vendetta? The only clue I had was that note: \u201cI know what you did with the west pasture.\u201d But I hadn\u2019t done anything except restore it.\n

By the next morning, I\u2019d decided enough was enough. If someone was trying to intimidate me, they needed to know I wasn\u2019t about to roll over. Instead of waiting to be harassed again, I spread the word. I called Roy, Lucia, and even old man Garrison, telling them someone was lurking around. I also put in a call to the local sheriff\u2019s department. They promised to send a deputy out to have a look around.\n

That afternoon, I was in the barn repairing a saddle when a pickup truck rumbled up. Out stepped a deputy, tall, solemn. We chatted about the trespassing, and I showed them the footprints by the pond. The deputy nodded and said they\u2019d keep an eye on the area. Before leaving, they suggested adding a trail camera or two. I made a mental note to pick some up the next time I went into town.\n

The next day, Roy called me. He sounded almost excited. \u201cYou\u2019re not gonna believe this,\u201d he said. \u201cI was checking my property lines, and I saw someone skulking around your side of the creek. They were wearing a dark hoodie, taking pictures of the fence line.\u201d\n

I felt that same jolt of adrenaline. \u201cDid you see their face?\u201d\n

\u201cNo, but I followed them back to a truck parked on the shoulder. Not local plates. I wrote down the license number\u2014maybe we can pass that along to the deputy.\u201d\n

My pulse raced. \u201cRoy, you\u2019re a lifesaver. Text me those numbers.\u201d\n

\u201cAlready sent,\u201d he said. Then, more gently, \u201cYou gonna be okay?\u201d\n

I paused. \u201cI will be once this is settled.\u201d I thanked him, hung up, and immediately rang the sheriff\u2019s office to pass on the license number.\n

A few days later, I was stacking hay bales in the barn when I got a call from Deputy Longstreet, the same one who visited before. They ran the plates, found out the truck belonged to some private property consultant from a few counties over\u2014a Ms. Lillian Black. The deputy explained that Ms. Black had been hired by a company that\u2019s been scouting land for a new development project. They were rumored to be sniffing around different ranches to see if they could buy them out or force them to sell. It dawned on me that this might be why they wanted to spook me: They wanted me off my game so I\u2019d sell out of fear.\n

I felt the tension ease from my shoulders. It was all starting to make sense. \u201cSo they\u2019ve been trespassing to snoop around, then leaving creepy notes to pressure me,\u201d I said.\n

\u201cThat\u2019s our guess,\u201d the deputy said. \u201cDon\u2019t worry. We\u2019ll make sure they know to back off.\u201d\n

A week later, after alerting the local farming association and my other neighbors, word got out that this development group had made similar threats in nearby counties\u2014nothing violent, but enough to scare folks into thinking they had no choice but to sell. Thanks to everyone backing each other up, we collected enough evidence to bring a complaint to the county commissioner. By shining a light on the situation, we took away the developer\u2019s power to operate from the shadows. Before long, they dropped their attempts to harass me\u2014or anyone else.\n

When it all died down, I felt a rush of relief. But more than that, I felt a sense of pride. Because I didn\u2019t cower or let them chase me away. I\u2019d faced the threat head-on, asked for help when I needed it, and found out I had a lot more support than I realized. For so long, I thought I had to do every single thing alone to prove my worth as a rancher\u2014especially as a woman in a man\u2019s world. Turns out, letting people lend a hand doesn\u2019t make you any less capable.\n

The next time I walked into the feed store, the guy behind the counter offered a respectful nod. I saw a flicker of apology in his eyes. Maybe he\u2019d heard about the trouble, maybe he just figured out that I was no one to mess with. Whatever it was, I didn\u2019t need him to say sorry. I was just glad to feel the weight of his assumptions slip away. And when I loaded my own truck\u2014mineral blocks, fencing wire, and all\u2014he didn\u2019t try to intervene.\n

I drove off, the sun beating down on my dusty windshield, thinking how far I\u2019d come. Once upon a time, I let people\u2019s small-mindedness get under my skin. Now? I realize it\u2019s what you do that matters, not what they think of you.\n

So that\u2019s the story of my west pasture fiasco. People saw a \u201cCowgirl Barbie,\u201d but they learned I\u2019m more grit than glitter. I run this ranch, and I do it well\u2014no matter who doubts me or tries to push me around.\n

If there\u2019s one thing I hope folks take from this, it\u2019s that we don\u2019t have to fight our battles alone. Being strong isn\u2019t about shutting everyone out and carrying all that weight by yourself. Sometimes the bravest thing is admitting you could use a little backup. You\u2019ll be surprised how many good people step up to help when you finally let them in.\n

I\u2019m here, still hauling hay, fixing fences, and birthing calves in the middle of the night. I\u2019ll keep running this place until I\u2019m old and gray, and I\u2019ll do it on my own terms. Because I\u2019m more than some label, more than how I look. I am the one who keeps the lights on, the cows fed, and the pastures green. This ranch is my life, and no one can take that away from me.\n

Thanks for reading, and if this story resonated with you\u2014if you\u2019ve ever felt underestimated or pushed around\u2014please share it and give it a like. You never know who might need a little inspiration to stand up for themselves. Let\u2019s remind everyone that no matter what anyone thinks, we each have the power to run our own ranch\u2014wherever and whatever that may be.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I don\u2019t usually get riled up about strangers, but today? I damn near snapped. It started at the feed store. I was picking up mineral blocks and fencing wire, wearing my usual\u2014mud-caked boots, faded jeans, and yeah, my long blonde braid tucked under a beat-up ball cap. The guy at the counter gave me this\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":108486,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"none","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[642],"tags":[818],"class_list":{"0":"post-108483","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-moral-story","8":"tag-moral-touching-stories"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108483","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=108483"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108483\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":108487,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108483\/revisions\/108487"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/108486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=108483"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=108483"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simplymeblog.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=108483"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}