I came to the barn last night to do feedings and all the usual suspects were hanging about, waiting, some ruminating waiting for more of earth's cast offs to ruminate some more. One comes to innately know when there is a slightly different arrangement of bodies at the feet, and I noticed Marcella, usually bounding to me or waiting at my side for the next job, was lying in the middle of the ducks, goats and pigs.
It was not a casual lay down either, she was at attention, showing everyone with her body positioning and ear pricks that she had something special, and it was hers.
Do not come near this, she told each nose bold enough to sniff too close.
I calmly looked, knowing it could be a baby bird, rabbit or dead snake, to name a few possibilities. Not that I'm callous to this, but one has to learn to be of them, the herd, and not over react. About seven times out of ten I do this pretty well.
What I saw was a gray, long, fuzzy object, about ten inches long and two inches wide. I considered the possibility it was the tail of a dead cat or squirrel. She allowed me in closer, as if I was somehow the one she was waiting for.
Look at it, isn't it magnificent? It's huge!
She stood up, looked at the thing, then looked at me, with the same expression Muddy gives me when he has his beloved Frisbee. So I picked it up, and examined it visually. I realized it was a giant hairball. It jogged my memory, of finding Marcella with her head in a bucket of old Victor's wool clippings. This dog will eat anything. It is usually futile to try to grab anything out of her mouth. I dare any of you to do it, but only if you sign a court document of waiver with a notary and a lawyer present.
Yes, Marcella, that is one fine hairball. Thank you for waiting to share it with me.
And with that praise she bounded out of the barn, looking for her next project.
