“I have found my calling in life,” I explain with mock seriousness. “I have finally discovered the one thing I excel at—” “Shoveling horse dung?” “Quite,” I say loftily. “As a Horse, I cannot expect you to understand.” “Mmm.” “In the first place, horse dung is far superior to goose dung, being of larger size. In the second, it is of greater import, being of significantly magnified stench. In the third,” I break off as Falada butts me with his head. “Hey!” “Spare me, O Lady of the Shovel.” “Don’t forget the pitchfork,” I reply tartly.
