Imagine our excitement yesterday when, as we were supervising the woman's paddock cleaning, a large brown box on wheels drove up and the side door flew open. The writing on the side said u p s - obviously some sort of code. There may be a counter-company somewhere called d o w n s, such are the mysterious ways of the world of commerce. Molly and I were delighted, assuming that a new equine friend waited inside. Molly galloped over through the mud, bellowing and gronking loudly. I followed at a more stately pace, making small huffing sounds of welcome.
A human, clad from head to toe in brown, leapt back onto the step of the vehicle. He somehow assumed that we had no braking ability and would crash through the fence, annihilating him in the process. The woman told him that we almost always got ourselves stopped in time. He sidled over, holding out a small cardboard box and a strange pad and pen device. Molly seized the side of the box and the woman had to wrestle it away from her. The woman used the pen-like device to scratch on the virtual pad and Molly seized that, the result being that the woman's signature came out looking like hieroglyphics.
I examined the brown-clad human's kneecaps through the fence. "Hey", he said, "is this some kinda donkey or goat thing? It has a weird shape." I was stunned. I didn't even know the creature and he was casting aspersions on my appearance and species?! Frankly, he was no conformation-winning specimen himself - toed-in, pig-eyed and a bad mover, amongst other flaws. Another of his plastic devices made ringing noises and Molly tried to grab that. As she gave him her classic Molly-lip-curl expression , he used it to take her photo "to show the guys back at the plant."
With that, he reinserted himself in the u p s conveyance and sped off. Such a disappointment on all levels. No new equine friend, no gifts for us, and a snarky stranger suddenly thrust into our sphere. How utterly typical. I wish we HAD crashed through the fence and trampled him underfoot.