Thursday, July 12, 2018

Tale Of A Tail

When Celeste jumps up on my lap, she makes herself comfortable across my legs and goes to sleep.  Lately it's been Ralph who claims the spot in the morning, but it's not quite the same with him.  Ralph prefers to lie lengthwise so we're facing the same way.  I wouldn't exactly call him hyperactive, but even at rest this boy can't be still.  His long tail is pointed toward my face, continually on the move and repeatedly whapping me in the eye, the nose, or cheek.  Celeste is my stalwart companion, quietly following (or herding me) everywhere I go.  Ralph is my clown.  He does make me laugh.

Like dogs everywhere, Bessie Anne's tail is a barometer of her moods.  Let the Kids drive up and that tail is going like a windmill.  On those rare occasions when she is chastised, her tail drops down between her legs in shame.  When Honey comes to visit, Bessie's tail is up and wagging big time.  I don't ever have to ask her how she's feeling.

Even the goats express themselves with their tail.  Happy, the tail wags like a dog's.  When in heat, the tail is nearly a blur, it goes so fast.  Angry, it flies at high mast.  I use the tail like a rudder to point the girl in the right direction, or give it a squeeze to get her moving along when she stalls on the path.

Animals may not talk, but they certainly and constantly express themselves honestly.

1 comment:

Kathryn Williams said...

That's for sure! (The last line).