The Grand Dam
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Good Lord! I know that I'm getting older. I'm not the beauty that I once was. But I've had several cria in my day, nursed the little buggers until they were strong and gorgeous, and I've produced tons of lovely fiber for you. I’ve never been ill, or given you a bit of trouble. I always come to you willingly and take your meager offerings of carrots and cookies. All ask in return is a little respect.
Did I not give you due deference quietly chewing some sweet cud, watching you clean up our barn. Did I spit on you? No. Did I grumble or growl? No. Did I move my feet when you asked? Yes.
Therefore, I do not understand why in the name of all that is holy did you feel the need to sneak that shovel under my butt when I was pooping today. How ROOD!! I had very meticulously chosen my spot, sniffed it, assumed the position that works best for an old gal, and let myself slip into the zone. And then you pulled the sneak and snatch move. Very difficult to maintain a modicum of dignity after that.
Respectfully submitted,
Cream O Wheat