I believe in cow patties. Where I come from these steaming heaps of poo equal love. Though their odor offends, they bring laughter and joy capable of creating the sweetest memories known to mankind. No other type of fecal matter could hold so much importance for me. A slight whiff of the rancid poo and the buz of frenzied flies takes me back to a time of innocence—a time of pure joy that was free of the world’s worries and full of anticipation and excitement. A time where the melody of my grandmother’s voice caressed the warm summer air and the taste of fresh raspberries tickled my tongue. A time when my father’s embrace could quiet all my fears.
Each summer our family hiked a trial that was frequented by a heard of cows. Consequently the entire trial was doused with cow patties. The smell was unforgettable; it completely overwhelmed your senses, making you wish for an escape—anything that would distract you and take your focus from the terrible smell. Reaching the halfway mark, we stopped to rest, and out of frustration, my younger brother, Daniel kicked a small bolder. The rock tumbled down the trail until it finally landed in a ripe pile of boiling cow poo. Chunks and flecks of cow pattie went flying. Jocelyn cringed and turned away in disgust. Daniel’s eyes widened and a mischievous smile slide across his face. His head whirled from side to side searching, until his eyes rested on a rock that lay inches from Dad’s feet.
Dad immediately understood and picked up the rock.
“Jocelyn get back!” I whispered as I retreated from the trial and behind a bush, pulling my younger sister along. We held our breath and our hearts raced in anticipation as Dad eyed the nearest cow pattie, calculating the exact distance and forced required to catapult the bolder into the smoldering heap of poop.
SPLAT! Cow pattie remnants flung through the air.
“Again, again!!” Daniel cheered. And that’s how it all began.
Happiness comes in all forms, shapes, and sizes. The greatest joy can come from the smallest and humblest of things—Cow patties. Now I’m grown up and on my own. Things have changed and people have moved on, but the memory of cow patties still brings me joy.
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