Doc's Diatribe: It's About Time

Well, you will never guess who waltzed into the barn last night, as if she owned the place.... my Mrs. Owner! She came down around dinner time, all full of energy and excitement. She kept prattling on about being back, and missing us, and being glad to be home, and how tired she was, and how she would be glad to sleep in her own bed, and... and... and! She burst into my stall and gave me a hug. I wanted dinner. She gave me special scritches that she knows I love, but I wanted food. She brushed her hand all over as she walked around me and my stall. I am hungry, can't you see? Then she moved on to Pippin's stall. She gave him a hug. He moved away. He hates hugs. He was hungry. She scritched his face. He hates face scritching. He wanted hay. Finally my Mrs. Owner got down to work and gave us our dinner. It's not like it was a big deal. The house sitter with the kind voice had laid everything out. I had been staring at the hay sitting there waiting for me practically all day. My Mrs. Owner didn't have to do anything but give us the food. I don't see why she took her sweet time doing it. I showed her how I felt. I turned my back to her and I didn't eat a thing...until she went away. I suppose, in a way,  I'm happy that she's back, too... but don't tell her!