The Game of Life
Living on the farm is always challenging and interesting. Well, this weekend was no different. Since my dad is in the National Guard, once a month, he travels down south for drill. Usually when Dad’s away, the girl’s get to play. And by play, I mean, my sister, Bethany, my mom, and I get to do stuff besides drag brush off, haul wood, and all those other not-so-fun farm activities. However, all of the animals had different ideas on Sunday. Instead of a nice day of horseback riding and Superbowl commercials, (that’s right just the commercials, we’re more of a baseball type of family) our livestock decided to mix it up a bit.
As I went to go catch two of my horses for a trip to the arena, a cow that had been living in our lot for awhile as we tried to nurse it back to health, decided that it no longer wanted to stand at all. With Dad only a few hours from getting home, I decided he could make the next decision on what to do. Armed with bucket of feed and halters, I walked into the horses’ pasture, where they all came running…except for Barney (yes, like the dinosaur). Who is 33 years old and laying down. Never a good sign. Eventually, he got up and limped toward me. Leaving him in the lot with hay and instructions for Bethany to keep an eye on him, we headed to the indoor arena five miles down the road. Surprisingly, nothing exciting happened there except for the usual bucks that come from a young horse that only gets ridden on the weekends.
Back home was a different story. While Barney had almost completely quit limping, the cow had taken a turn for the worst. By the time all the hay was fed and the Superbowl had started, she had joined all the other cows in ‘the great pasture in the sky.’ While the Giants and Patriots played the Superbowl, we played the game of life against mother nature. And once again, mother nature won.