Back from the “Dark Continent”, my first trip to the barn occured as my husband brought me home from DFW Airport. “Why don’t you drop me off at the barn?” I asked. “ I can unpack later”
“No problem. I’ll take your bags in the house” Sweet man. I haven’t even made it to the house yet. I’m walking into the barn.
Barn cats came running out of nowhere looking for a handout. I had put the horses out in pastures and large pens before I left. I could tell some of them had been moved around for activities occuring during my absence. I wasn’t sure where Minnow was. I looked out at some horse shaped figures to the South.
“Minnow” I yelled. Nothing.
“Minnoooow” I yelled again. One head shot straight up and looked in my direction. There he was. Big, beautiful boy. I had missed him.
I smiled. It made me feel good he was interested in me being back.
Wait a minute.
His head went back down and he continued eating.
Well, that burst my bubble. I had visions of him throwing his head up at the sound of my voice, whinnying and running up to the barn to greet me like the Black Stallion did Alec or Trigger with Roy Rogers.
Nope. He is more interested in finding that next piece of barely green, frost burned grass.
Chowhound. That’s his new name.
Oh well…here is a poem I wrote while sitting around camp in Meru.
Yet, another elephant has graced me with poo.
It truly is endless, there is so much to do.
A piece here a piece there, it helps it’s so fibrous.
Impala poo rolls well. There is enough for all of us.
I cannot see where I’m going, I push backwards all day.
I wish the red legged centipede would get out of my way.
The humans delight in my laborous job.
Their cameras are snapping, I’ve created a mob,
but this fame is not going to go to my head.
I’ve been seen on postcards and calenders, photos over a bed.
It’s hard to stay humble as I fill up this hole,
but I am a Dung Beetle and that’s how I roll.