“Is that caribou ours now or something?” This was Stephanie’s question as she swept in the door a few moments ago.
“Oh, yeah, didn’t you know? Everybody’s got a water buffalo,” I started to sing.
And Larry has it right. Cause we really do have one that has seemed to have adopted us.
On Guam a Caribou (pronounced Care – i – bow) is just another name for a water buffalo. They were used by the Chamorro farmers to help them plow the field and make roads. Now it just seems they can be found in southern village yards, eating grass, or walking along the side of a road or highway being led by an old man with a stick. Or perhaps you will see one walking through the village, pulling a little cart, as it is led by an even older man.
This one belongs to our neighbor but we have this luscious patch of grass that he loves to eat. Apparently my husband had seen the mutual benefits of allowing this animal to graze on the corner of our property. Feeds the beast and means less grass to mow.
So tonight as the southern stars come out, a water buffalo is sleeping next to my car in my driveway. He joins our dog and several cats and whatever toads and chickens venture near in the night.