The three little barbarians lived in a stall with Wembley at night. There was something about them that made Moony keep asking: what are they?
Moony exists in a state of eternal surprise and she would see them and marvel: what are they?
"They are just from Oregon is all," I tried to explain but talk about deaf ears. Ok during the day they learned immediately about hole-seeking and they would be put out with the elderly and the infirm and they would eat blackberry leaves for a few minutes and then they would find a hole or a gap in the fence and they would skedaddle back to the barn like true believers where they would inspect for hay and grain in an extremely professional fashion.
Binky thought they were very annoying and tried to t-bone them but they are small creatures with large brains whereas Binky is the reverse and the results were far from satisfactory from the Binky side of things. All in all they were born skedaddlers and Belle Starr began giving them inquisitive looks.
"Wait a minute," she would say, looking especially at the little white one.
"What are they?" Moony would ask again, as if it were a new question.
After a few weeks the three barbarians were introduced to the concept of weaning and their shrieks filled the air. We did not need a translator to know that they were calling the Milk Police and protesting that there is no such thing as weaning in Oregon.
One of them, the little white one with the pretty face, pulled a commando raid on Wembley and got a few ounces of milk before Wembley could gallop away.
"Wait a minute," mused Belle Starr.
"Those three little things," asked Moony. "What are they?"
