I thought we could provide what you needed. I thought we could satisfy you. Remember when you first came? How you would frolic around the field and not break through the fence and just stand around chewing, happy to be here? We had each other and a giant field of weeds for you to chew on, and that's all we ever needed. But then something changed. You started to wander. You'd wait until my back is turned or we're visiting Idaho and you leave in search of greener pastures. And we keep chasing you and herding you back. Now you've seen what else is out there. Is it really that much better than what you've got here, with me? Can you look me in the eyes and say that it's really better?
Yup. Our cows have started escaping again. Once while we were gone to Idaho. Another time I was driving away at 6 a.m. when I looked out the side window half way down the road to see Coolie and Moolie staring back at me, from our neighbor's yard. Apparently they have a dier need to leave, because the third time they waded through our pond (our neighbor affectionately calls it our swamp) to escape. Brent had to wade through to find them and then wade through again to chase them home and patch the fence. The good part about this is that we're getting to meet more of our neighbors, including the one who carefully pointed out that our beloved pond is actually a beaver-created swamp.
Amber, Kelly and I both love your writing. Fantastic. We are laughing. What fun.
ReplyDeleteJen