The truck caught my attention as
the engine sputtered to a stop. After
some slamming, thumping and other ruckus, Savannah sat on the tail gate
rattling a bucket of something that sounded delicious. Apples was already going to investigate, and
I couldn't let her get more than me.
The
metal of the bed was hard and cold on my feet.
Head down, I plowed through the others and sunk my nose deep into the
feed. Chicken scratch. But I’ll take it.
Even the
tailgate slamming didn't deter me from my meal.
But the engine starting, that got my attention. The ground shifted and rolled beneath
me. I stumbled into Daisy, who was still trying
to gulp down the last of the feed in the bucket. I
braced, feeling queasy. But it wasn't
the moving truck that sent a shiver through my hide. I knew this feeling: uncertainty with a hint
of fear. We were leaving.
Apples,
like me, stuck her nose in the air and peeped though the slats. We were veterans of leaving. We both arrived at the farm from different
places. I came from a small horse farm,
and I don’t remember where before that.
Apples arrived shortly after me, but we bonded quickly, being of similar
stature and the only two without ears. The
others just stood braced, confused, and looking ill.
The air became foreign with the smells of neighboring fields and homes. This changed into the scent of exhaust as the truck gained speed. The wind and the earth roared. Through the slats in the cattle rack I could see other vehicles moving slowly next to us.
As I knew it would, the
truck eventually slowed and became still and quiet. I could smell Savannah before we saw her
fumbling with the gate to open it. There
were other people, too. Small ones with
strange scents. Savannah beckoned us to
follow her through the human fence of children, giggling and shouting. There was a gate opening into a fenced
enclosure.
The ground was covered in nasty
wood chips, but I soon found rose bushes just within nose reach through the
chain link. There was also a corner of
the lot covered in delicious pine needles and a forgotten flower bed with some
quickly disappearing mums.
It was a pleasant lunch after an
unsettling trip.
Without notice, the empty lot quickly filled with
children. They were everywhere. They petted and poked and fed me green stuff
and pine needles. Strange as they were,
the children didn't seem to intend me any harm.
I accepted their attention with mild curiosity.
One of the children tugged on my
collar. It was Timmy, the little boy
from home. He wanted me to go with
him. Normally I would ignore him and go
my own way, but Timmy was the only familiar thing in this strange place, so I
agreed to follow.
He led me up and down and around
through strange structures. An entourage
of laughing, grinning children surrounded and trailed us. The adults followed at a distance, holding up
and making noises with strange contraptions.
Every once in a while I saw Apples,
Daisy, or Buddy through the crowd of children.
Usually it was Daffodil calling and searching for Daisy, her
mother.
Our entourage gradually diminished
in size until it was only Timmy and a little girl. We had wandered under one of the play
structures. It was cool, relatively
quiet, and calm. Time to lay down. So I did.
Timmy tugged on my collar, but I ignored him this time. He shrugged and sat down next to me with his
arms around my neck, head resting on my shoulder blade. Feeling comfortable and secure, I couched up
some partially digested grass and chicken scratch and started chewing. Might as well get some work done while I
wait.
As quickly as they came, the
children disappeared back into the building.
Savannah came to load us all back
into the vehicle. The others fought her,
trying to escape as she latched up the tail gate. Next followed the usual rumbling chaos of the
wind and road.
When all grew quiet and the tail
gate dropped, my muscles relaxed. The
odor of the old chicken coop, the hog pen, and the neighbor burning grass
clippings across the road greeted me. I
could hear the screeching of the guinea hens, the annoyed honking of the
ganders, and the rolling gobble of Tom.
We were home, and it was instantly as though we had never left.
