There has been a major reduction in the amount of testosterone flowing around the farm in recent days. I have a strict No Testes Allowed policy. Dino had his little “procedure” yesterday. The entire concept of my policy always makes my son a little nervous. Understandably so. But as he was helping the vet prepare Dino yesterday by holding up his tail I think it finally sunk in. He exclaimed, “You mean you’re going to cut them OFF?”
The vet replied “Yes, we’ll removed them entirely.”
My son grew pale and said, “Oh no, I can’t stay here and watch this.”
I traded places with him after I finally stopped laughing.
Then there was also a tragic accident on the farm over the weekend. Blackbeard disappeared without a trace. I looked high and low for him but he never turned up. Then later when I was discussing the situation with someone my son mentioned he saw part of him in the East pasture on Friday. It appears Blackbeard must have committed suicide by jumping into the pasture with the Willabeast.
He lived a long and luxurious life. I have no idea how old of a rooster he was but based on the size of his spurs he’d been around for a very long time. While it is certainly tragic, he really was a good old bird, in the grand scheme of daily life here on the farm it doesn’t constitute a crisis. You see, Old One-Eyed Calico Jack has been waiting for this day to come. The day he can finally be the Top Dog er Rooster. Now he has his pick of the ladies with no worries of anyone beating him up. Well, other than the ladies themselves. They aren’t exactly welcoming his advances with open arms.
I’ll miss old Blackbeard, but it is not all bad. I finally get to move Jack and his girls out of his assisted living facility and get my garden shed back. And Jack gets to be the Big Man on the Farm at least for now until someone else grows a pair.
“Not me. I’m not growing anything. No need to cut anything offa me. I promise. Nope, I’m not growing nothin’. Nada.”, said Frankie.
I have a feeling it will be awhile before ALL the boys stop acting a little nervous around here.
15 comments:
I'm sorry about Blackbeard.
I'm sorry about Blackbeard.
You didn't mention the Engineer, I'm wondering where he's been hiding? ;D
LMAO!! You are too funny!
How old is your son?
He just turned 18, Lori.
In other words, "suicide by cop." Well, you can't stop 'em all. Lucky Jack!
Frankie looks like he's going 'gulp'.
Your son... how hilarious!
Di
Sorry about Blackbeard. : (
Frankie's expression is priceless!! What a hoot!
I always felt this was the hardest thing to do on a farm. It just seems so mean. Of course, we did it to all our sheep except the prize ram, of course.
nellie
Oh my, my husband calls it the same thing... suicide, when the birds come over the fence into the yard where Lilly can get them! UGH! I had birds stashed in my feed room, too, I am SO GLAD to have them in their own pen outside now!
Good golly, your alpacas have expressive faces. I totally hear the voices in my head that they would have as I'm reading your commentary. Wait. That's not weird, is it? ...that I'm hearing voices in my head?
lol
Poor old Blackbeard. At least he died with his balls on. Do you think Jack had a foot in it?
Priceless expression! Ah well, those alpaca boys are all the better for being minus unneeded equipment. Sorry about your rooster, but we all know that staying alive on the farm requires remembering where the "unsafe" places are.
Oh my gosh the look on Frankie's face says it all!! Sorry to hear about Blackbeard.
Whatever happened with those giant bags of wool you got from a neighbor? (The You Might Also Like thing reminded me of that post.)
That's a blog post waiting to happen, Karen Anne. LOL
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