pactly. My dog, Mister, and I took to the road pulling our A-frame trailer, the Rollin' Rancho. I'm a traveling horse trainer/clinician, who became a non-essential worker during the COVID-19 lockdown. Then, in 2022, we bounced back. We were nomads looking for horse training adventure and liver treats. Work paid for the trip; it was part clinic tour, part travelogue, part squirrel hunt. But mostly an unapologetic celebration of sunsets, horses, RV parks, roadkill, diverse landscapes, and undomesticated women.

It's a book made of made of adjectives and nouns, blue skies and tornado watches, resorts and reservations, open roads to the horizon, and one-lane dead-ends. We emerge from the truck in a cloud of dog hair and sunflower shells, like disoriented and scruffy rock stars in a GPS haze, not entirely lost or found.

This book isn't about training, although there are horses in it. It's a follow-up of Stable Relation, my first book, but my life changed in ways I would never have guessed, so don't expect the usual sequel. Undomesticated Women is a travel memoir, a peek behind the curtains of what my job is like. I wanted to see this beautiful country, do some time travel, and explore thoughts and memories now that I've become a gray mare.

Mister would tell you it's his memoir about being tasked with the unreasonable job of guarding me against a wild range of dangers. Like eating dinner late. He's a dog unimpressed with my tiny fame.