As long as I live, I will never intentionally eat buffalo meat. It's a long story (see below), yet it is a short story (see way below).All of us raised in a country environment know the importance of animals. They are a part of the hub of our economy here. They are house pets, hunting targets and 4-H exhibits. Animals are us!So my experience with God's creatures is not unique, but here it is. My earliest memory is of finding a slithery salamander in the bathtub of our Blue Mounds home. Certain members of my family shouted, "LIZARD!!", as if comparing the slippery little fella to a building-tall amphibian in a Japanese horror movie. Oh sure, a salamander was nearly as difficult to remove from the scene, but they were cute and had innocent eyes. They were merely curious and got caught exploring our drain system.In addition to our bathtub visitors, there was the occasional garter snake in the house, a few mice and a stray cat we took in for several years we named "Cornfield" because of the yellow-orange stripes down his back. Surrounding our home were the type and number of animals to simulate the Wild West of the 1800s. To the north was a sizable herd of feeder cattle trampling the precious wild flowers and unique tall prairie grasses. It was there I had my first apprehensive and, thankfully, uneventful encounter with a protective bull.To the south were woolly sheep. During adventurous days as a youth tracking bank robbers and escaped convicts through the Mounds, I often discovered at knee level the telltale sign of sheep wool attached to the bark of a tree. If you wander today amid the beauty of the land below the Interpretive Center, the trail you are following was originally flattened by those same sheep. But without question the two most significant animals in my life were Waggles and Ginseng. Our family named Waggles within minutes of getting him from our uncle. He was an excitable dog; his tail was in perpetual, wagging motion. The purebred beagle was the perfect companion for the son in a one-son family. We slept under the same covers together, played soccer within the walls of our elongated hallway, and football and Frisbee on our lengthy front lawn. We shared the comics on Sundays (particularly "Peanuts" where Snoopy's antics mimicked those of my dog — or was it the other way around?!), and with my older sister played "psychiatrist", with Waggles as Dr. Freud.Ginseng was another purebred, a Siamese cat. She was the property of my girlfriend when I lived in Santa Barbara, Calif. When the two humans split up, I got the cat. Ginseng was heroic. She once got caught in the neighbor's car for nearly 10 days without food or water and survived. When it was time for me to put her down at the vet's office due to stomach cancer, I could barely see through my tears. On the way there, I took Ginseng in my car past all of nature's local wonders — the expansive beaches, the animal zoo, the color-ridden city parks, the grandeur of the Pacific Ocean. All of which leads me back to the subject of buffaloes. My first job was in 1970 at the Blue Mounds State Park. It included tending the growing herd of buffalo. I fed them, herded them, inspected them and related to them. They were majestic, beautiful animals who never crossed me. And as you have seen, I can get very close to animals. So is it any wonder why I will "never intentionally eat buffalo meat?" I guess experience dictates preference.