Yeeeee-

I have no idea how this will translate as a blog post...let’s see!

I feel the need to warn you that this story has no resolution. No big reveal, no discovery of the truth. It’s kind of like watching one of those unsolved mystery shows - like Unsolved Mysteries (an aptly named show) - but less interesting and you have to read.

Now that you’re all geared up and stoked to read this post, let’s get on with it!

A few weeks ago, we were in bed on the verge of falling asleep when...

“YEEEEEE-HAAAAAAW!”

Clear as day. Inside our house.

Sean and I looked at each other and at the same time said, “What the hell was that?” Sean insisted on investigating, but I was worried there was a killer in the house.

Sean: Who breaks into a house and then announces his presence with a “yee-haw?”
Me: It’s the perfect crime! Totally nonchalant. Are you seriously saying that sound didn’t come from inside our house?
Sean: ...No, I’m pretty sure it did.

He grabbed the dog, turned on all the lights and walked the house looking for The Yee-Haw Killer (the thing we’ve been calling him since the following AM). To be fair, the dog does look ferocious and has a mean bark, but the minute she felt even a tinge of threat from a cowboy, she would cower and retreat, so it made me a little nervous that she was Sean’s only line of defense.

He found nothing after searching the house, and we settled in for a sleepless night of staring at the doorway waiting for a man to break in with a belt buckle and a lasso to take us down.

Fast forward to November 20th at 7:03am. We’re getting ready for work when...

“YEEEEEE-HAAAAAAW!”

Clear as day. In our backyard.

Sean was IN THE SHOWER and heard it. That’s how loud it was. Showers are loud! You can’t hear anything in the shower. But he heard this.

I was still in a towel, but I was determined to find out who was doing this, so I ran into the backyard. Found no one, except the chickens running around in a frenzy. That’s when I convinced myself it was someone who worked in the plant nursery behind our house. And whoever it was was harassing my chickens.

So I took to Nextdoor.

I’ve never posted to this app before, but I was desperate. Someone has to know what’s going on, right? Maybe an eccentric neighbor who enjoys letting out a celebratory “yee-haw” while mowing the lawn or something?

A whole lot of nothing. This is no party, Rosemary. This is serious business. No, no one won the lottery, Robin. And seriously, Suzy? This sound is not coming from a parrot. Get your head outta your ass.

Although this story has no resolution, we are reaching its current end. Fast forward to 6 hours and 35 minutes ago. November 25th. 8:46pm.

“YEEEEEE-HAAAAAAW!”

Clear as day. Down the street.

Sean was fast asleep for this one. It was the first time I heard it alone, and something about this one was bone-chilling. Three times is a pattern. What. The. Hell.

I shook Sean awake to see if he had heard it. He hadn’t. I felt bad for waking him up...until 2am when Sleepwalking Sean shook Alli and me awake and said, “Oh my gah, did you grab your jersey?” Normally I like to mess with him and keep the dream convo going, but he seemed distressed, so I said, “Yes, I have it right here,” and he got back in bed and went to sleep. (Side note: I’m glad he’s excited about the game this weekend because I am too! And it sounds like he dreams of buying me a jersey. 🙌)

But back to 8:46pm.

I had a hard time falling asleep after this one. I started imagining all the worst case scenarios. Who could this yee-hawer be? Was he just an excitable man or some kind of lunatic? People are crazy these days, so you can never be too sure.

One of our dog roommates, Alli, is from Texas (I think?) and has an outline of the state on her chest. We talk for our dogs (because...who doesn’t??), and Alli is full-on Texas hick. She has a southern accent, calls everyone “partner,” only eats at Texas Roadhouse and says things like, “You’d get shot for that in Texas” and “If it ain’t a ribeye, then why are ya feedin’ it to me, partner?” (My only memories of Texas outside of work travel are from when I was a young tyke and we visited my aunt and uncle in Houston. All I remember is their cute ass dog and quoting some makeup commercial with my sister - either “maybe she’s born with it” or Covergirl? “Hugo for women?” I was very young, and it’s all hazy.)

I’m telling you this, not because I want you to know just how mad Sean and I have become or how little we know about Texas, but because tonight I managed to convince myself that The Yee-Haw Killer has somehow heard us mocking Texas culture and is seeking revenge. That’s why I’m awake writing this at 3am. (Well, also because Sean wanted to make sure I grabbed my jersey.)

I don’t know when we’ll hear from The Yee-Haw Killer again, but based on this pattern, probably soon.

In the meantime, I am optimistically naming this blog post “Yeeeee-” with the hope that there will one day be a “Haw!!!” outlining the resolution. Wishful thinking? Probably.