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Cruel unfairness

FarmWife and the goats conspired to make me the most jealous mule ever yesterday: first, FarmWife took wee Briony Bluebell into the yard for some gamboling about, some eating of delicious leaves, and some being photographed. She let Briony stand on the picnic table. She let Briony jump on the trampoline. She let Briony walk through the house to the milking porch, where she let Briony eat grain while she got her hoofies trimmed.

I don't get grain while I get my hoofies trimmed. I get tied to a post and told, "Stand!"

FarmWife then proceeded to trim Missy's hooves, which was the epitome of unfairness—Missy actually gets to sit IN FARMWIFE'S LAP while having her right hind feet* done. This is terrible. FarmWife says, "but she's so weak. Poor old girl." If being clumsy and feeble gives us a free pass for sitting on FarmWife, then I am going to look forward with eager anticipation to my retirement! When I act uncoordinated and heavy during a hoof trim, I get glared at and sometimes scolded. I have to stand there on three legs like a camera tripod while Missy gets to lounge about like a cat. Blech.

Otherwise, all is well. I've been eating the orchard, which is very special. The goats don't get to eat the orchard because they would kill the raspberry canes, but what I don't tell FarmWife is that I like to kill the raspberry canes, too. I just kill them with more subtlety.

Ears,
FenBar

* this is not a typo. Goats have two feet on the end of each leg. Super-duper weird, I know.

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