A COW'S HEAD IS A COW'S HEAD IS A...

Where we live, a subdivision of 234 houses, there used to be a ranch. Imagine that, a ranch in Arizona. Some friends remember when there were camels that occupied our land. One tells me (one friend, not one camel), that the Army experimented with rasing camels for warfare. I thought that had been done many years ago in different lands, but anyway(s).

We also had a lot of saguaros, I'm sure. Yet when our subdivision was built, the saguaros disappeared. Being the optimist that I am, I'm sure they were transplanted other places rather than bulldozed or uprooted or knocked down. Anyway(s), the only ones in our neighborhood have been purchased and transplanted by home owners.

We have a few now because I wanted to feel deserty. I love palms and we have those and yuccas and oleanders, but I wanted some cactuses. Note: not cacti. It's perfectly, well maybe imperfectly ok to call them cactuses. It sounds so much better to my Southern Illinois rooted ears that cacti, which sounds like something in a petri dish. So we put in a cactus garden a few years ago. The focal point is a 6 1/2 foot saguaro. No arms yet, but one cactus flower bloom. We added four others along with agaves, aloes, pencil cactuses and ocotillo. They bloom at different times of the year, and now I'm happy living in the desert.

Well, almost. It was just not quite Western enough for me. So recently we purchased a cow head. It looks just like the cow pictured with horns pointing in the same direction as its nose. All (s) you have to do (well, if anyway can be anyways, then alls can be all) is take off the hide and muscle and fat and sinew--you get the idea. It even has teeth. Right next to the big, by my standards of comparison, saguaro is where you'll find him. Facing the golf course. And hoping no errant slice tears into his skeleton head.