My mother and I, along with my elderly aunt Senna, were living in a basement of a bank barn. There was no direct sunlight, no access to pasture, and only concrete with pieces of rebar sticking out. It was a prison. La prison!
One day Farmer Anne came to shear us, I could tell she was concerned about our living arrangement. Then before we knew it, the three of us were taking a ride in a trailer only to be let out to a wide open pasture! I remember that day, seeing my mom Delphine, running for the first time, throwing her neck joyfully around. I just had to do the same thing, savoring the cool grass between my toes. It’s been a while since that day and I can hardly remember my basement days.
Now, my mom and my auntie have passed on, but my friends Jean-Claude the llama and Angel the sheep and I take strolls amongst the pastures every day and just enjoy being outside. By the way, I’m named after the beautiful Marguerite flower.