No Bones About It

On a nice Sunday drive heading out to the countryside, we often pass this one development of mcmansions that we have dubbed “the golf course of the rich and famous.” Tiger doesn’t live there, but all the Tiger wannabe’s and have-a-lots obviously do.

Although I realize these are probably very hard working people who have earned the right to live in these echoing, cavernous castles to house their nannies, humvees and 1.2 children, it’s hard not to think that some of the residents may have been born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

But according to a recent story in the local news rag, their silver spoons are now dripping with buffalo dung.  Yes, you heard me.  Buffalo.  Seems Old McDonald, whose farm is located on the opposite side of Green Acres, has more than 60 buffalo grazing on his grounds. A picture perfect setting, normally, for those who want to live in a modern upscale cookie cutter neighborhood, yet still have vistas of forests, animals and simple country folk.  It may somehow make them feel better for the guilt they harbor after purchasing the giiinormous home from the builder who slaughtered all the trees and distorted the countryesque landscape.

All has been quiet and peaceful in this remake of Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farms until the snowpocalypse this winter, when seven of Old McDonald’s buffalo died due to the harsh elements. And as any earth-loving  farmer would do, he promptly moved the carcasses to the edge of his property, where they were left in their communal, natural state to rest in Georgia O’Keefe Heaven….right on the border of the 17th hole.

Buffalo skulls may be inspirational to some of the local artists, but I don’t think this is what the Joneses had in mind whilst out swinging their clubs on a sunny day while breathing in the stench of decaying buffalo carcasses and tripping over cloven-hoofed artifacts. And the once twinkling, babbling brook bordering their manors now has the residents wondering about their water supply.

Although the public water safety people have assured them that the water control system is completely adequate and their water is safe for drinking, this may give future builders pause before erecting fortresses next to Old MacDonald’s barns and ruminant bovine.

I can just hear him mumbling as he wanders back to his simple farmhouse with that piece of hay dangling from his mouth, “Hole in one. I win. You lose.”

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Filed under Critters, Random

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