Today’s country morning vlog is basically me spiraling… over a vet appointment that is literally just routine shots (rabies) and a normal “physical” evaluation. I took the kids to the bus and, of course, my horse decides that THIS is the day he’s going to lay down in the grass like he’s auditioning for a dramatic medical emergency. I’ve never even seen him lay down before, so my brain immediately went to, “Oh cool, you’re choosing today to die.” And that’s the vibe: that weird, unexplainable anxiety where nothing is actually wrong, but I’m convinced something could be wrong—like TSA-level panic where you’re suddenly like, “Do I have drugs in my butthole?” for absolutely no reason. Add in the vet’s giant arrival window (10–12) and me not knowing if it’s going to cost $200 or a thousand, and I’m just stewing in unanswered questions. The good news: the vet called and said he’ll be later, but he’ll give me a heads up, so at least I’m not sitting there staring out the window all morning. Also, my horse was totally fine yesterday—running through the woods with a kid on him, and it was equal parts cute and chaotic.