Muddy Sunday

Yesterday, I did a really stupid thing. I don't know what in the world I was thinking. For those of you who don't already know it, we have three donkeys on our little farm. Their names are Cooter (the Daddy), Clementine (the Mama,) and Chloe' (the Baby) who is six months old. I went outside to fill their water trough and usually I put some food in their buckets first to distract them and keep them occupied on the other side of the barn. For some reason though, I got the bright idea to hand-feed them some treats in hopes of coaxing Baby Chloe' into letting me brush all the mud out of her fur. So, I entered their inner sanctum loaded down with a bag of apples in one hand and a brush and bag of carrots in the other.

No sooner had I stepped out into the barnyard and Baby Chloe' peeked her furry little head around the side of the barn and spotted me. She came running and grunting, followed by her Mama. Then here came old Cooter running at a full charge right at me and I went into complete panic mode! Only problem was, my boots were stuck in about six inches of mud and I couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Apples and carrots went flying and I got knocked down right into the mud. My life flashed before my eyes and I just knew I was going to get trampled to death by three rambunctious jackasses!

Miracle of all miracles, somehow when I opened my eyes, I was still intact. Apparently as soon as Cooter saw I had fallen down, he knew he was in BIG trouble because he took off to hide around the other side of the barn. Clementine and Chloe' however, were standing close by just staring at me and munching on the carrots that were scattered all over the ground. I'm sure Baby Chloe' was thinking, "Hmmmm, this is a new game. What's our funny human doing laying in the mud?"

By this time, my husband figured out something bad was going on and he wanted to know if I was okay and what the heck had happened. I told him Cooter had knocked me down and then he started scolding me about how I had no business being inside that barnyard with three unpredictable animals! Okay, okay! I know it was stupid of me. Give me a break! I was covered in mud, my leg, shoulder, hip (and pride) hurt, and I felt like an idiot!

In the meantime, the trough was filled, the treats were devoured and I even managed to brush all the tangles out of Baby Chloe's hair. I think she felt sorry for me, so she stood real still and let me get all her tangles out. Either that or she was waiting for me to continue our funny game of rolling around in the mud.

This morning when I woke up, I felt like I'd been run over by a truck. My leg is swollen, I can't lift my left arm above my shoulder, my hip hurts so bad I could hardly lift my leg to put my jeans on, and I have a big bruise on my shin where I hit the trough on the way down. Why in the world did I ever think living on a farm and keeping animals would be fun? My husband is right, I have no business trying to be a farm girl. I'm a hopeless klutz and every animal we've ever owned figures out a way to outsmart me. We need to move to the city and get me a goldfish or two. Surely I can't get into any trouble with a harmless goldfish, can I?