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)