An Interjection: In Memoriamanensis

An Interjection:
In Memoriamanensis
It is with a ton of sincere sorrow that I announce to you all the passing of both Lucy and Maude. Stalwart and brave bovines to the end, they nevertheless succumbed to the mortality that unites us all.
Lucy, alas, one fog-soaked November eve, was mistaken for a crazed copse or fuzzy furze or just an old rock pile by the Maestro himself. He was attempting to aim the dilapidated old Desoto toward the barn-slash-garage that dense dark night after a tense and futile run-through with the Senior Boys Band (average age 83) of the Polyvetsian Dances. Their rhythmic thickness and total inability to appreciate the Slavic beat had driven their tireless conductor straight to the Ox & Udder, apr s, for a quick nip of Stoney Ripple to numb his offended musical sensibilities. And as he entered Obscuria, between the nog and the fog, he was unable to distinguish the recumbent Lucy from what he thought was a clump of hawthorn bushes. The Maestro never mentions his 'running over' of poor old Lucy although it was with utmost certainty, the single most important cause of his subsequent 'disappearance.' This just-mentioned disappearance I will clear up in a following addendum and put to rest, once and for all, the foul rumours surrounding the incident. But this is a memoriam for two dear friends  creatures of the animal kingdom  and I will not be sidetracked.
Maude, on the other hand, simply and quietly passed on to that great stall in the sky, as she stood in her aged quarters. It was however several days later before we realized that she had gone as her stall was too narrow, and she, alas, too wide. The queer smell that began wafting toward the kitchen door of Obscuria we all at first attributed to Lucetta. That is to say, she was in the midst of pickling her famous rutabaga chips and we thought she got the recipe wrong, (again, I might add). Soon, however, we found Maude's antiquated frame gently falling to dust and gave her a decent bovine burial up under the decrepit Dutch Elm-diseased trunk behind the barn-slash-garage.
Happily, though, our departed beasts have now been replaced by Cliff and Clarice, a lovely old Holstein couple that give us all a great deal of joy and very little milk.
So here's to you, Lucy and Maude. May you be content in your celestial pastures and never suffer from dry teats.

 



How to Listen to Modern Music Without Earplugs
How to Listen to Modern Music: Without Earplugs
ISBN: 0920151310
EAN: 2147483647
Year: 1999
Pages: 35

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