Larry is a mule we met at the pumpkin patch we visited. He greeted us by sticking his nose out in a forlorn fashion, displaying only the long face he had on. The thoughts of Larry were not known to us, but sorrow was clearly painted upon that face’s canvas. With his hooves together, he meekly stood at the barn’s opening as dusk brought in fading light, observing in melancholy the patches of orange spheres and his human compatriots.
But which one of us observers could tell the story that Larry bore upon his shoulders? Little did we know that Larry was orphaned as a young animal. Left without mother or father, Larry was led to the his current place of residence by a complete stranger with a firm grip – he was, indeed, forced to leave the place of his ancestors. Not only that, but he was removed from his younger siblings on account of mandatory appropriation; his braying did not even touch the heart-shaped stone within his captor. Larry, was then mounted by this alien, and urged to continue meandering along a path that led further away from home. Not only this, but his captor attached a cruel contraption of leather and metal to his back so that he could hang packs off of Larry’s side. They walked from dawn until dusk before he dismounted and tied another leather mechanism around his mouth; the freedom that was his seemed to belong to a dream dreamt ages prior. And so, Larry found himself led against his withering will to the barn in which he now sulks, imploring bystanders for some sign of the life that he had left behind.
Or he could just be a regular mule, born and raised on the farm.