Tuesday, February 7, 2012


One cool, blustery day in early March, we were busying ourselves with our usual mule grooming chores.  Lidge was checkin’ out an ol’ mule’s teeth, and I was around back fixin’ to curry out her tail. Dad had just outfitted the ol’ gal with a shiny new set of iron shoes. All at once her ears come down, her hind end kind o’ bunched up, and a hind foot come snatchin’ out and rung my shinbone like a bell! I collapsed to the ground frantically rubbing my throbbing ankle and desperately fighting my inclination to besmirch that mule’s pedigree, and Lidge grinned at me like I was just off the boat!  “I figured you knowed better than that.” He says, with his lips curled back and his teeth all catchin’ sunlight. “When an ol’ mule’s hind end puckers up that a way, you best drop and roll.”  “I thought that’s what ya done in case of fire.” I said, dusting my drawers and struggling to find my feet.  “When an ol’ mule behaves that a way” Lidge says, offering me a hand up, “you can reckon she’s fixin’ to fire!” I cautiously resumed my enterprise, keepin’ an eye peeled for any further sign of insubornation, and flinching with every twitch!  OBIE’S QUEST

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