Amy is my shepherd; I want for everything
She maketh me to lie down in poopy barn: she leadeth me beside the still algae-infested trough.
She directeth my grazing; she keepeth me in the paddocks of righteousness for her soil’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou guardian dog art with me; thy rod and thy staff are far off back in the barn where they cannot reach me.
Thou preparest a bale of grassy hay before me in the presence of the goats: thou anointest my head with ivermectin, my cup runneth over (though I wanteth nothing of it and am holding out until she bringeth back more of that alfalfa hay that she serveth us last week)
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell on the farm of Amy for ever…or until freezer camp which ever comes first.