Sparks (or not)
Emitted from the fire, their tiny illumination endures for the briefest of moments…then, they are gone

Keeping me humble

My wife is an animal person. She was raised on a ranch in the San Joaquin Valley of California.  Since the beginning of time, a farmer’s worth has been measured in numbers of cattle.

Since our small, three-acre parcel won’t support the thundering herds, we have dogs – and a few miniaturized versions of horses and donkeys. Dare I say we are utilizing the maximum livestock potential of our small plot?

I love animals too.  Although I don’t share Lady Red’s propensity for excess, I accept her obsession as part of the package. Lord knows, she has made many a concession regarding certain traits of  ‘yours truly’.

Because the benevolent county land-use commission is so concerned about the quality of our groundwater run-off, we are required to gather all the solid waste by-product from our dogs and haul it to the local landfill.

Among my many titles around the realm, I am the Poop-Scooper-in-Chief and Hauler Supreme. Each time I make the short drive to the landfill, my heart inevitably begins to swell with feelings of self-importance  as I consider the utter sacrifice I am making in order to fulfill the Lady’s desire.

You’d think that after so many such trips to the dump, I would heed the proverbial advice: “pride goeth before a fall”.

My lofty pedestal takes an immediate hit as I maneuver our old farm truck in between two shiny extra-cab SUVs. The belching of a chronic exhaust leak only adds to the salvo of disgust now coming my way.

Then, the odor of my fermenting freight makes it’s presence known. I detect a noticeable increase in the rapidity with which my dump-mates complete their task.

Again, stares of disbelief and shaking of heads levels any remaining haughtiness to a pile of rubble.

If looks could kill, I’d be writing this from the grave.

As I survey the discard of those around me, I take little solace in knowing that at least MY refuse is worthy of throwing away. (Americans can be such a wasteful lot).

I leave the dump clearly interpreting the thoughts of those who chanced to encounter my presence: “Good riddance!”

As I turn into our driveway, thoroughly brought back to earth, I utter a silent oath to myself: “I’ll never fall into the trap of pride again. This time, I’ve learned my lesson!”

But before I can even park the truck, a thought invades my mind: “God, I’m so humble!”

One Response to “Keeping me humble”

  1. Ha ha ha!

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