But once a ram, always a ram.
Joe head-butted me. Hit me from behind as I was walking away, thinking we were buddies.
It was a shock. I flew through the air, landing on the ground. It knocked the wind out of me. I had flashbacks of high school football practice.
When I recovered and got up, Joe was standing nearby looking at me, like nothing had ever happened.
Had he been able to speak, Joe might have said, “Nothing personal, fella. This is what I do.”
I left the field, walking backwards this time, facing Joe.
I never petted him again. I guess I took it personal.
Copyright 2011 by Phil Roberts, Creative Enterprises.