Part of my job (seemingly every other day) was to chase out the burros (donkeys) or the horses that decided to discover if the grass is truly greener on the other side of the fence - the other side just happened to be our side of the fence at the site. This important job was not given to me; I somehow was one of the first to respond the first time our professor yelled, "Get them out!", and so a pattern developed. By the way, the donkey with the black stripe going down its shoulder blade, we named Brentley - we became very close through the weeks.
2 comments:
Is the grass greener on the other side?
Peace,
Actually, it was. We were at the top of a rocky bluff where we had a thin layer of soil and grass before you hit bedrock. The donkeys and horses would glare at us from the public side of the fence, and wait for one of us to forget or get lazy and not close the gate. Then they would make their move. Memories.
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