Sunday, October 23, 2005

The Smell of Ass

As I stated in an earlier entry, I am now the proud owner of an Ass! Not just any run of the mill Ass, but a genuine, full-blooded, beautiful gun-metal gray ass. I have named him Zeke. He is a bit on the short side, but being only 4 months old, I am assuming he will grow some. Not that being short is bad, a short ass will be just the right size considering I am 5 foot nothing. He is so cute, with his big lips and mobile ears that can twist and turn any direction at the drop of the proverbial hat.

Each and every day since I received the ass as an early Christmas present, I have treked up the hill and across a huge yard to play with my ass. But does he appreciate my thoughtfullness? NO!. I have yet to touch the thing more than a glancing blow as he backed away from my outstretched hand. Zeke isn't tame by any means. He and his......errrr.........stablemate are equally distant and scared of all humans. Go figure, me, who by no means is an accomplished brave woman, am now the owner of an ass that doesn't want to be petted.

Being of a noble nature, tho, I am determined that this ass will grow to accept me as his owner. To date, and I have only had him for a week, he is willing to eat sweet feed and corn from a bowl that I am holding out in front of me. But you can raise a hand to pet, and he runs away. Ah well, at least he doesn't turn his back to me anymore when I unlatch the stable gate. That is progress at least.

Yesterday as I entered the barn, dimly lit with the dust from hay and or manure wafting on the breeze, I encountered a horendous smell. I couldn't imagine anything smelling that bad.As I opened the stall door, my delicate nose was assaulted with the smell of manure. I looked at Zeke and Zeb and asked was that smell coming from them? Of course, they rolled there little eyes and stamped their hoofs..............which sent up another cloud of dust right into my eyes.

Why is it when we get older, our sense of smell seems to be enhanced? Sis and I spent countless hours locked into the dim barns of our childhood, constructing numerous mansions amoung the bales of hay. With hidden entrances, we could be assured of hours of time away from our pesky younger sisters. I don't remember it smelling that bad back then. I certainly don't remember the dust and smell stopping my nose up for days on end. It can't be the barn that smells so bad................so it must be the ass.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Back then we didn't have asses in the barn, they were in the pasture. The only asses in there were ours and the only smell was when YOU would break wind!!

Anonymous said...

Can't wait to see that new ASS!!

Monty said...

Your sister sent me over to see your new ass too! I just love the country!