I am prone to get on my bike and ride. It’s an old black all terrain bike-but it works and it provides an hour or so of escape. I love that bike-more so, because, as I have admitted before, I can no longer run the distances I used to…….a side affect of older knees you know. But I can bike-and I have back-roads, side roads and New England country sides providing miles of mental escape. I love my bike.
On a recent ride-I happened upon a farm that is part of one of my routes. The farm has an array of chickens, cows, goats and a mule. One squatty, grass bellied mule. He-or she-I confess I don’t know if one is better than the other down on the farm-and apart from the obvious( I was not that close) I don’t know how you know…..anyway, that mule was clearly out numbered-and clearly serving a purpose. Many farmers keep mules around to keep the coyotes at bay. A mule will protect and kick-as I have been told-and no matter how hungry the coyote-a kicking mule is no match. I observed the New England post card scene for a bit and biked onward.
On the way back-same farm site-this one lone mule ( mule-ette?!) was lining everyone up the hill towards a waiting pile of hay. It was lunch-a sunny spot for a mid-day meal-chickens, goats, cows and the like….every other animal-especially the goats, were lined up the hill. That is, with the exception, of one brown goat. That goat. Determined to stand her (his) ground-was not going to budge. No way that goat was going to do what every other animal was doing…mule ordered. I, of course was curious to see how this was all going to play out-goat and mule head to head; mission against mission. I began crafting conversations for each- as I watched them battle out wills.
Mule: Just get up the hill and eat-for God’s sake. It’s hay. You like hay.
Goat: But I don’t want to eat just yet. There is a breeze coming off the bay-the sun is strong and I want to remain here-by myself for just a bit longer. A little alone time-if you know what I mean.
(the goat turned away from the mule to walk back down the hill towards the sunny spot in the back of the fenced in area….there by the fake owl on the corner fence post and the giant rock-most certainly warm from the sun)
The mule was quicker than I thought he (she?) would be and in an instant-was head butting the goat in the opposite direction.
Mule: You are going up that hill. It’s what we do everyday at this same exact time-in the same exact spot-just head up the hill and eat the damn hay. Please.
Goat: No. I don’t want to.
Mule: ( Once again head butting the goat in the other direction) It’s my job. It’s what I do. It’s what I was hired to do……….besides, you know he’s watching and if I fail at getting you up that hill-well, then, I might be put out in the other pasture. The shady side. I hate the shady side.
Silence. Other animals waiting. watching.
They were head to head there for a while. A minute or so. really. head to head. A meeting of animal minds. Mule to goat. And then the goat turned and walked up the hill. The mule gave a slight nudge after the fact. The goat fell in line with the others and headed up toward the mound of hay. That mule, I swear this is the truth, turned and looked at me-and I swear, right there at the bottom of the hill in the middle of the sunny patch of farm- that mule turned and smiled at me. A slight smile of satisfaction.
I continued on my ride home.