The fox that visits my farm doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is. It’s hungry. It’s wild. It takes what it needs and leaves the rest. I can respect that.
What I can’t respect is the mess our government has become.
We’re over a month into a shutdown, and it’s not just a political inconvenience—it’s a full-blown collapse of basic function. Federal workers are either furloughed or working without pay. Food assistance programs like SNAP are running out of funding. Military families are bracing for missed paychecks. And the people in charge? They’re pointing fingers and taking recess.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are out here trying to hold things together with duct tape and prayer.
On the farm, when something breaks, you fix it. You don’t argue about whose fault it is while the barn collapses. You don’t hold a vote on whether the animals deserve to eat. You show up. You do the work. You take responsibility.
But in Washington, it seems like the only thing growing is dysfunction.
This shutdown isn’t just about budgets—it’s about broken trust. It’s about elected officials who treat governance like a game of chicken, while real people suffer the consequences. It’s about a system so polarized, so performative, that it can’t even keep the lights on.
And here’s the kicker: we’re expected to keep producing. Keep farming. Keep feeding. Keep paying taxes. Keep showing up. While they don’t.
I’ve lost chickens to foxes. I’ve lost income to market shifts. I’ve lost sleep to burnout. But I haven’t lost my sense of duty. I haven’t lost my grip on reality. I haven’t lost the ability to do the damn job.
So when I look at the fox in my field, I don’t see the enemy. I see a creature doing what it was made to do.
When I look at Congress? I see a pack of predators in suits, feeding off chaos and calling it leadership.
This country deserves better.
We deserve a government that functions. That feeds its people. That pays its workers. That doesn’t treat shutdowns like seasonal events.
Because out here, when the system fails, we don’t get to shrug. We get to suffer.
And I’m tired of suffering for someone else’s power play.
