"Ronnie is a dick. I mean, he's really an ass, I mean a donkey, you know, the poor relative of the noble horse. He's a jackass in more than one way. He told me he wasn't going to carry carrots to the town market, because carrying carrots was cacophonic. As if his braying could be taken as a melodious show of vocal harmony. He also told me Herman the bull was holding a grudge because of the established practices in our farm, and he was plotting something ominous. I laughed at that: Herman liked our time together in the barn. I had proof. So on I went, to grab the bull by the horns, as they say in my language, and see what was the problem. After searching around as if he was a needle and not a fucking huge black bull, there I found him, all alone in his enclosure, ruminating on grass and - so Ronnie swore - grudges. - Hi there. Herr! - Don't. I'm ruminating. - He turned his butt towards me. You see, I've been talking with our animals since I was a child and
with nowhere to lay my hat