A Place Called Home
A Place Called Home
“Christine patted the rump of the big horse and moved toward the high-pitched bleat of Chester, wondering as she did why she never fed the goat first just to keep him quiet. As usual, the din came to an instant halt the moment Chester got his food.
The chickens were happily pecking at their meal as Christine headed around the barn to Belle and Betsy’s pen. Both were overjoyed to see her, crowding near Christine’s legs as though they were starved. Christine filled the trough and turned to go. Bet...sy, in her eagerness, rushed to the trough and bumped Christine on the back of the legs. She reacted quickly, dropping the pail and reaching for the fence. Catching it kept her from going facedown into the pig muck, but her knees buckled and she felt them sink deeply.
Having struggled out of the pen, Christine stood and surveyed the damage. The front of her dress was ruined. She watched as the slime dripped onto her boots, and she had to put her hand down to hold the dress away from her legs.MoreLess
The chickens were happily pecking at their meal as Christine headed around the barn to Belle and Betsy’s pen. Both were overjoyed to see her, crowding near Christine’s legs as though they were starved. Christine filled the trough and turned to go. Bet...sy, in her eagerness, rushed to the trough and bumped Christine on the back of the legs. She reacted quickly, dropping the pail and reaching for the fence. Catching it kept her from going facedown into the pig muck, but her knees buckled and she felt them sink deeply.
Having struggled out of the pen, Christine stood and surveyed the damage. The front of her dress was ruined. She watched as the slime dripped onto her boots, and she had to put her hand down to hold the dress away from her legs.MoreLess
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