If I were a butterfly,
I’d thank you, Lord, for giving me wings.
And if I were a robin in a tree,
I’d thank you, Lord, that I could sing.
And if I were a fish in the sea,
I’d wiggle my tail and I’d giggle with glee;
But I just thank you, Father,For making me ‘me’.

My Little Gnudren,

Recently old Gnu has had much cause to thank God for animals, and two in particular. An ‘orse named Magnolia, and another nameless quadruped whose name Old Gnu shall never know, but to who he owes unfeigned gratitude. Our hymnody is sadly lacking in hymns that thank God for them; or, if mentioned, only speak of them in a condescending manner.  Old Gnu is minded of one of our church members in the 1980s. She stood up to lead the children’s songs and introduced If I were a Butterfly with the remark, “Now let us thank God for all the animals”. Alas that was an incorrect exegesis of the kerygmatic thrust of this profound song, the punchline of which is, “But I just thank you father for making me, Me”. The song thanks God that we are not animals! [Having said that one kindly family friend once accused Old Gnu of gobbling up a chocolate cake like an animal.]  That could be deeply offensive to our fellow life forms. The blessed St. Francis was much more inclusive in his hymnody: “All Creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with us sing.” But If I were a butterfly does have some comforting insights. How many times have singers sat in a Choral Workshop and thought that some of the participants, like the robin, are best heard from the vantage point of a tree. Or perhaps they should just be content with wiggling their tails in the sea.

That brings us to Magnolia the ‘orse. What she discards will benefit our vegetables no end. She has been very busy of late. I had three bags of her stuff and there were another 40 at least left in the shop! What she has copiously discarded will keep us healthy once Mother Earth has done her business on Magnolia’s business. It doesn’t bear thinking about too hard if one is squeamish.

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And now on to the nameless quadruped, to who I owe an enormous debt. Below are two photos of this quadruped:

No, no, fear not! No murder has been committed. This sheep – let’s call her Jacob, since she one of the rare breed known as Jacob Sheep – is very much alive as far as old Gnu knows. Unfortunately, the coats that tens of 1000s of her fellow sheep grow each year are discarded by many farmers, because there is no demand for them. It is too expensive to wash them and treat them so they can be used in woollen fabric. Instead, we mass produce cheap synthetic fibre clothing. Hearken unto the voice of Clothes Aid: “The UK could save around £3billion per year from the cost of the resources we use to make and clean clothes if we changed the way we supplied, used and disposed of clothing. This would reduce the carbon, water and waste footprints of clothing consumption by 10-20% each. 350,000 tonnes, that’s around £140 million worth of used but still wearable clothing goes to landfill in the UK every year”. We have produced a culture where a significant number of people buy cheap clothes, wear it once and then bin it. Thus we help wreck the good Earth a bit more.  A Wildlife Trust based in the Cambrian Mountains, Central Wales, is trying to find an efficient way of composting sheep’s fleeces and thus putting the material to some use. It is also exploring other ways that this marvellous product that Jacob grows annually can be put to use without busting a gut.

Well, why has Old Gnu nicked a fleece from Jacob you ask? It’s to help him hear better. Too many warship songs have battered his ears over the years. But this is where Jacob can help. Gnu has recently constructed a pair of large speaker cabinets out of a set of battered bookshelves he purchased for £5 from a charity shop in Bedminster. He couldn’t believe his luck. The wood was solid Ash. Into these cabinets went a pair of discarded car speakers. These accentuate the high frequencies that Old Gnu’s hearing lacks. Jacob will line the inside of the cabinets, because, as a some very expensive hi-fi manufactures have found, wool is the best way to absorb and eliminate the unwanted frequencies a cabinet produces.

The Rite of Spring will sound much clearer to Old Gnu’s ears thanks to Jacob, an Ash tree and Maplins’ cast-off car speakers when they closed on the Gloucester Road in Bristol. Truly Old Gnu feels very virtuous and at one with nature, and Maplins’ misfortune. And Mrs. Gnu is delighted. Now she knows he is sitting safely in his shed, blasting his ears to pieces. When Old Gnu has deafened himself completely, look out for these two beauties on ebay. You’ll recognise them ok. They will be labelled, Guaranteed to Deafen.

Blessings upon you my little Gnudren. Look after the good Earth.

Vetus Pater Gnu [he/haw 🐴 ]
Academiae Musicorum et Theologia
Turris LA
XV Mensis Maius MMXXII