Blueberry and Meels’ registration papers list me
as their owner, but they can’t read. In fact, they and the kids are under the
impression that I belong to them.
Because I fix their breakfast and supper and
bring it to them, they think I’m their cook. Because I clean their stalls, cut
down willow branches for their treat, and carry fresh buckets of water to the
shade to keep cool, they think I’m their servant. Because I worm them, bathe
them, give medicine to any who are sick, or assist with delivery, they think I’m
their nurse. Because give them bedtime snacks (crackers or raisins) and tuck
them into the barn at night so a fox or coyote doesn’t eat them, they think I’m
their nanny. Because I listen to their complaints and try to accommodate their demands,
they think I’m their concierge.
If only I could speak caprine, I’d tell them
that I’m in charge of this outfit, not them!
“…God’s in charge, not you….” –ECCLESIASTES 5:2 (MSG)
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