Happy Yakky trails
When I saw the picture in your paper of that yak on the lawn, I had to smile. I know that yak. That yak is a friend of mine.
A year or so ago, when I was (a too-long time) homeless, I was inside my wet sleeping bag beside the road on M Street where the big boulders are set. I had slept there the night before when I was in the throes of a raging fever and was unable to walk any further. I thought that if I died in my sleep, I was close in (road and town) so that whoever comes by to pick up the homeless’s bones could throw me in the truck and get me to the crematorium.
In the morning, I awoke to the sound of hoofs on the pavement. My first thought was, “Wow, they do have animals in Heaven (or Hell?)”
Looking up and over, I saw a yak, a llama and a goat. Walking with them were a pair of noble, fair, long-haired guys. I raised up an elbow and called over, “Hello,” and “Goodbye.”
They all came over to me and we “yakked” for a minute and then they and I separated.
I survived that too-common of a homeless ordeal of being sick, unsheltered, hungry and thirsty, along with being old and physically disabled. Recently I have come possess shelter (temporary).
Today as then, I rest assured that by law, that my friend, “Yak,” will be fed, properly sheltered and a vet will be called out of he (she?) becomes sick or hurt!
Happy trails, my “Yakky!” You You will get much better care and attention by humans than they provide for their own homeless fellows.