I’m not sure why, but the older I get the more I find myself talking to animals.
Especially the gentler ones.
I spent a sunny afternoon this week atop a hill overlooking a peaceful pasture with a flock of sheep.
I escape to this special spot when the volume of politics in Washington and the rest of the country is turned up too high. And I often need a additional dose when the mud slinging gets particularly messy and stinky during our campaign seasons.
So as I sat alongside my sweet friends, I began to share my woes about all the nasty political noise. The sheep then bleated, baaed and bowed in great sympathy.
At least I like to think they did, though my rational side knows they can’t possibly understand me. After all, I know sheep were labeled stupid years ago.
Yet sometimes it’s like a breath of fresh air for me just to vent.
“And what about that Senate hearing Thursday on the Supreme Court nominee? The insults back and forth in this country are sure to get extra ugly,” I asked one approachable curly haired two some.
“Just what are we to do?” I pleaded.
The two sheep looked back at me for a moment, and then at each other smiling.
Suddenly, and perhaps wisely, one of them quickly turned the other cheek.
Well, it seems most animals, like people, really can teach us something.
And especially those dear ones who have been wrongly labeled stupid.