No, that's not Farmer H. I can see how you might be mistaken. That's actually the south end of the north-facing horse-donkey that now lives across the road from the Mansion. When I stopped to take his picture as I returned home from the ill-fated hamburger-buying excursion, Mr. Horse-Donkey was standing sideways, looking right at me, his oversize ears pointed forward with curiosity. I could only assume he was posing for a picture. The minute I got my phone camera ready to steal his soul, he headed off to make an ass-photographer of me.
I almost got a good shot of him as I took off toward town.
Of course, as Hillbilly Mom luck would have it, Mr. Horse-Donkey's face was obscured by a dastardly cat footprint on my windshield. That darn cat! Or that other darn cat! Or the other darn cat! Or...never mind. That fourth cat cannot heft his ever-increasing girth onto the hood of T-Hoe to climb up the windshield and leave muddy footprints.
In other news, Mr. Man-Donkey may have learned a lesson last night. Today, as he was gathering Christmas decorations from the yard at 11:30, after telling The Pony he was supposed to help with that task at 1:00 or 2:00...I went out by the garage and asked if he would like a chicken sandwich for lunch. And do you know what he said? "I would like a chicken sandwich."
Tough love, people. Sometimes it takes tough love. A no-nonsense example of how actions have consequences.
This is your brain. This is your brain without a hamburger.
ReplyDeleteApparently Farmer H learned one CAN lead a horse (or a man-donkey) to the river of good sense and--faced with drinking or starving--the man-donkey CAN be forced to drink.
I also have that luck. It's like they know what I am planning. If I want a picture of one of my animals I have to sneak up on them. But they seem to always catch on to what I am doing. I always end up with a picture of them Walking away.
ReplyDeleteThat is when you should have pointed at one of his chickens, smiled and then walked back into the house.
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI asked if he wanted some lettuce and mayonnaise on his chicken sandwich. No...but he'd like some mustard. I told him he could get that for himself, because I didn't know how much. Seriously! Who puts mustard on a chicken sandwich?
Farmer H went without the mustard. I guess it was too much trouble to add it himself.
*****
Michelle,
Yeah, I thought it was just my sweet, sweet Juno who dashed about so quickly that I could not capture her on camera. No. It's every animal I try to focus.
You need to slither like the Grinch did under little Cindy Lou Who's Christmas tree.
*****
knancy,
Yikes! This is not a horror movie! Besides, Farmer H is always offering one of his 2,184 roosters for the cook pot.
"He'd make a good pot of chicken and dumplings." Um, no. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom would be the one making the pot of chicken and dumplings, and plucking that rooster. No thanks.