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1661 clicks; posted to Main » on 05 Mar 2017 at 9:00 AM (1 year ago)   |   Favorite    |   share:  Share on Twitter share via Email Share on Facebook   more»



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2017-03-04 11:08:46 AM  
I originally had an involved thread with "being under water" as its theme(next week), but got two emails suggesting a thread about encounters with farm animals. Now, TFD being the place it is, you can assume the worst- but I thought about it and got to laughing about some of the random stories from my childhood.

Although I grew up way out in farm country, I realized in my 20s I'm a city person and have led an urban adult life since. Still, I've retained quite a bit of the "country boy" humor when you city folk start fretting about animals or getting weirded out by animal stories we considered normal. That said, I've always been puzzled by Alpaca farmers- or really anyone who blazed some trail with weird non-traditional farm animals.
FWIW- growing up I tended dogs, rabbits, quail, and pheasants as a kid.

So excluding dogs, cats, pets- think of a story you had with a domesticated animal, or someone who raised weird shiat with weird results and/or encounters. CIty or country, we've all had brushes with strange out of place animals
 
2017-03-04 10:14:34 PM  
You just asked TFD to do livestock.
 
2017-03-04 10:14:48 PM  
Roughly
 
2017-03-04 10:15:25 PM  

I_C_Weener: You just asked TFD to do livestock.


Do you have a better way to tenderize a steak?
 
2017-03-04 10:17:15 PM  

I_C_Weener: You just asked TFD to do livestock.


How else do they have sex?
 
2017-03-04 10:18:13 PM  
Jesus Farking Christsp?
 
2017-03-04 10:19:33 PM  
I_C_Weener:

I know damn well you grew up in cow country
 
2017-03-04 10:19:49 PM  
You ever see a dairy cow get milked by a robot?
 
2017-03-04 10:23:16 PM  
I milked a lot of cows before the robots were invented.
 
2017-03-04 10:23:22 PM  

dugitman: Hey TFD,

I was going to di an involved thread with "under water" as both a literal springboard and idiom thing because of a suggestion from one of you, but I think we should go with something lighter. Livestock, farm animals, whatever probably have some good stories from a lot of people. I grew up out in the stix so what seems mundane to me is often really weird to city folk. Does anyone want to take a lead story on this? It'd be cool for urban and rural people to chime in.


If you just go with 'livestock', UnspokenVoice and I both have chicken stories.
 
2017-03-04 10:24:52 PM  

Roman Fyseek: dugitman: Hey TFD,

I was going to di an involved thread with "under water" as both a literal springboard and idiom thing because of a suggestion from one of you, but I think we should go with something lighter. Livestock, farm animals, whatever probably have some good stories from a lot of people. I grew up out in the stix so what seems mundane to me is often really weird to city folk. Does anyone want to take a lead story on this? It'd be cool for urban and rural people to chime in.

If you just go with 'livestock', UnspokenVoice and I both have chicken stories.


I... I, you two are cultists aren't you?
 
2017-03-04 10:25:39 PM  

dugitman: I... I, you two are cultists aren't you?


Well, oddly enough, all of our chicken stories take place in Maine.
 
2017-03-04 10:27:54 PM  
I could talk about cows, but I'm afraid that even with my experience with them, they're not all that interesting to me.
 
2017-03-04 10:29:27 PM  

Roman Fyseek: dugitman: I... I, you two are cultists aren't you?

Well, oddly enough, all of our chicken stories take place in Maine.


bdn-data.s3.amazonaws.comView Full Size
 
2017-03-04 10:36:58 PM  

dugitman: Hey TFD,

I was going to di an involved thread with "under water" as both a literal springboard and idiom thing because of a suggestion from one of you, but I think we should go with something lighter. Livestock, farm animals, whatever probably have some good stories from a lot of people. I grew up out in the stix so what seems mundane to me is often really weird to city folk. Does anyone want to take a lead story on this? It'd be cool for urban and rural people to chime in.


I spent two weeks on a cattle ranch.  Have you ever pushed an expectant cow back to the barn with a fancy lifted Chevy pickup?
 
2017-03-04 10:38:11 PM  

Roman Fyseek: dugitman: Hey TFD,

I was going to di an involved thread with "under water" as both a literal springboard and idiom thing because of a suggestion from one of you, but I think we should go with something lighter. Livestock, farm animals, whatever probably have some good stories from a lot of people. I grew up out in the stix so what seems mundane to me is often really weird to city folk. Does anyone want to take a lead story on this? It'd be cool for urban and rural people to chime in.

If you just go with 'livestock', UnspokenVoice and I both have chicken stories.


As do I.
 
2017-03-04 10:39:46 PM  

I_C_Weener: Roughly


On your other nameless, I had you farkied as "Pandafarker" so don't judge.
 
2017-03-04 10:40:18 PM  
I lived on a dairy farm for a while. Had cows, pigs, chickens. If you have questions. Maybe I can answer.
 
2017-03-04 10:42:31 PM  

kimwim: If you have questions.


I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.
 
2017-03-04 10:49:28 PM  

Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.


Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.
 
2017-03-04 10:50:26 PM  
Or the time mom pig had a breech piglet, had to reach up in and turn it to deliver it.
 
2017-03-04 10:50:58 PM  
These people all year long are

They're not really friends.

They're not really friends
 
2017-03-04 10:52:03 PM  
I knew a gal who had immigrated here to Nebraska at age six, and one day, out of nowhere, at age 18, asked me earnestly, "Brad, are the different kinds of cows?"
I think my facial expression permenently changed that day.
I mean, cows are everywhere here.
 
2017-03-04 10:53:21 PM  

kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.


The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...
 
2017-03-04 10:58:37 PM  

MalloreeH: kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.

The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...


Yep. Had to help the vet donone of those. The wire saw. Sad for mom and baby.
 
2017-03-04 10:59:17 PM  

kimwim: MalloreeH: kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.

The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...

Yep. Had to help the vet donone of those. The wire saw. Sad for mom and baby.


do one. Stupid phone. I'm better w a keyboard.
 
2017-03-04 11:00:39 PM  

kimwim: kimwim: MalloreeH: kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.

The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...

Yep. Had to help the vet donone of those. The wire saw. Sad for mom and baby.

do one. Stupid phone. I'm better w a keyboard.


Stop it! Both of you! Post your story in the CSB thread. It's above.
 
2017-03-04 11:02:40 PM  

Roman Fyseek: kimwim: kimwim: MalloreeH: kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.

The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...

Yep. Had to help the vet donone of those. The wire saw. Sad for mom and baby.

do one. Stupid phone. I'm better w a keyboard.

Stop it! Both of you! Post your story in the CSB thread. It's above.


🤔 this. Is the csb thread.
 
2017-03-04 11:06:23 PM  

kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: kimwim: MalloreeH: kimwim: Roman Fyseek: kimwim: If you have questions.

I don't think there's a question, so much, for a CSB thread. You're just supposed to tell a story about whatever the topic is.

Oh. Sorry.

The time mom cow calved and she had been pushing for so long her "stop pushing now" hormones didn't kick in. So she pushed her uterus out.  Know how you put a cow's prolapsed uterus back in? Sprinkle it w 5 pounds of sugar to shrink it, then use a whisky bottle to shove it back in, hopefully you won't push a hole through it.

The dude's dad is a large animal vet in the middle of Kentucky. When we go back for visits, he helps his dad castrate and preg check at the stockyards and occasionally go on calls.

The worst smell I've ever encountered was a cow in labor with stillborn conjoined twins that were almost full term. They were coming out in pieces...

Yep. Had to help the vet donone of those. The wire saw. Sad for mom and baby.

do one. Stupid phone. I'm better w a keyboard.

Stop it! Both of you! Post your story in the CSB thread. It's above.

🤔 this. Is the csb thread.


Haha... you know, I think you're right
 
2017-03-04 11:09:07 PM  
O you've all probably heard the story about ex Mr kimwim farking the milkmaid. That's a cow story, right?
 
2017-03-04 11:20:03 PM  
Worked a summer job with the power company for 2 years; it was a program for HS kids interested in engineering careers to work with actual engineers.

I was assigned to the testing & troubleshooting office - 5 or 6 actual engineers about 30 technicians.  We'd check for issues with radio interference, do the specialized testing on the big transformers and circuit breakers in the substations, verify that blueprints matched as-built when new stuff was installed, etc.  One of the common customer-service things was dealing with angry dairy farmers who were claiming that stray voltage was shocking their cows and reducing their milk yield - especially when hooked up to the milking machines.

Now most of the time these calls were nonsense, or were entirely due to the farmer doing amateur electrical work.  But one time the guy had complained enough that they sent out 2 crews, plus a couple of the engineers and managers.  So there's 6 or 7 of us standing in a barn.  The technicians are in jeans and boots, the engineers, managers, and I are in slacks and dress shoes.  And we're standing in about an inch of manure and slop, and there are cows on elevated platforms around us pissing and shiatting everywhere.

While the farmer is chewing out the managers, the rest of us try to figure out if anything is actually happening. So we start measuring voltage differences between every place we can think of in the barn to see if we can find anything.  I've got the meter in one hand, and with the other have one of the probes.  In order to get a good ground, I have to crouch down and scrape at a drain until I make good contact, then stay there and handle the readings while one of the techs has the other probe and is touching every railing and piece of pipe in the barn.

Did I mention that there were cows on platforms above us, shiatting and pissing?  I spent an hour with my head at cow ass level trying to read a multimeter and learn about stray voltage in agricultural buildings.

Needless to say, I did not specialize in power went I got into engineering school.
 
2017-03-04 11:23:06 PM  

FrancoFile: Worked a summer job with the power company for 2 years; it was a program for HS kids interested in engineering careers to work with actual engineers.

I was assigned to the testing & troubleshooting office - 5 or 6 actual engineers about 30 technicians.  We'd check for issues with radio interference, do the specialized testing on the big transformers and circuit breakers in the substations, verify that blueprints matched as-built when new stuff was installed, etc.  One of the common customer-service things was dealing with angry dairy farmers who were claiming that stray voltage was shocking their cows and reducing their milk yield - especially when hooked up to the milking machines.

Now most of the time these calls were nonsense, or were entirely due to the farmer doing amateur electrical work.  But one time the guy had complained enough that they sent out 2 crews, plus a couple of the engineers and managers.  So there's 6 or 7 of us standing in a barn.  The technicians are in jeans and boots, the engineers, managers, and I are in slacks and dress shoes.  And we're standing in about an inch of manure and slop, and there are cows on elevated platforms around us pissing and shiatting everywhere.

While the farmer is chewing out the managers, the rest of us try to figure out if anything is actually happening. So we start measuring voltage differences between every place we can think of in the barn to see if we can find anything.  I've got the meter in one hand, and with the other have one of the probes.  In order to get a good ground, I have to crouch down and scrape at a drain until I make good contact, then stay there and handle the readings while one of the techs has the other probe and is touching every railing and piece of pipe in the barn.

Did I mention that there were cows on platforms above us, shiatting and pissing?  I spent an hour with my head at cow ass level trying to read a multimeter and learn about stray voltage in agricultural buildings.

Needless to say, I did not specialize in power went I got into engineering school.


New York?
 
2017-03-04 11:38:19 PM  
You owe me for pasting this from the other thread, dugitman.

dugitman: think of a story you had with a domesticated animal


Chickens are far from domesticated. They're little dinosaurs and, ain't nothing domesticated about that.

At any rate, I grew up next door to a chicken farm. David raised chickens for one of the big names but, I forget who and, it really doesn't matter. They're all raised approximately the same.

So, David's barn was three stories tall. The way it works is that once the barn is cleaned and a 2" thick layer of sawdust is spread on the floors by neighborhood children and teenagers, a couple of semi trailer trucks show up. On these trucks are thousands of baby chickens. One of the trucks has a scissor jack on it (they might both have the jack. We only needed one, though) and they would back up to the barn. The bed of the truck would lift up to the door and we kids would walk across from the door to the truck and grab a small cage.  We would walk the cage to the back corner of the barn and go get another until some grownup told us to stop.

At that point, we would all run down to the middle floor and repeat the process. Meanwhile, other kids were loading the ground floor with cages. When everything was said and done, the doors would be closed and we would start opening cages and pouring baby chickens on the floor.  One kid on each floor was responsible for chasing the chickens so that they wouldn't pile up like so many zombies in a corner. This was usually one of the older kids because the younger ones tended to stomp on the chicks.

Once all the crates were dumped, the kids would take them down the stairs and out to the waiting flatbeds to be restacked and taken away.

Wait 3-4 months. This is where the fun starts.

Three semi trucks, boxes, this time, would pull up to the barn, one-by-one. There would be two on scissor jacks and one with a ramped truck. Not a truck with a ramp but a truck that could lower the edge of the truck to the ground.

Anyway, starting at the top of the barn, one kid would chase the now-full-grown chickens away from the door. Another kid would open the door a crack until the truck body arrived at the right height.  The doors would be thrown open creating semi-continuous path for the chickens to leave the barn and enter the truck.

Of course, this wasn't a perfect seal so, some chickens would suddenly be faced with freedom because of their clumsiness. We kids would all chase the chickens to fill the truck but, the stragglers and escape artists weren't important to the truck drivers.

We do that on the top floor, then another truck on the middle floor, then the final truck on the ground floor. Then, all three trucks drive away leaving us kids to clean 6" of chicken shiat out of the barn and into the vegetable gardens of the neighbors for a mile radius.

But, not before capturing all those fugitive chickens.

The rule was that we could not run within 10 yards of the road. It was a 50-mph highway so, the risk was pretty bad. The kids could gang up on the chickens in any way we thought would work just so long as we stopped 10 yards before the highway.

Well, there's 6-10 of us so, we find a candidate chicken and we spread out in a horseshoe around the chicken and we attempt to corral the bird into our waiting arms. This is frequently a riot. The chickens are on to us. They somehow know that if they run long enough and fast enough, we kids will suddenly stop for no reason approximately 10 yards from the road and the chicken will experience FREEDOM! right up until *Wham!* SCREEEEECH!

So, so many chickens met their untimely demise to some poor slob rocketing along Route 1 who suddenly sees a blur of white, hears a massive thump, and sometimes gets a windshield full of blood.

We're all pretty certain that they thought they'd hit a kid because tires shouldn't lock up like that for a chicken.

Anyway, if the kids captured the chicken, and we did capture most, we would collect two or three. It depended on how many stumps we had. We would bring our contestants back to the stumps. The stumps had two nails in them separated by about an inch near the edge.

You grab your chicken by the face and lift her up such that her neck stretches just enough to fit between those nails. Then, you push down on her little skull to bring the neck betwixt the nails and let go. The nails prevent the chicken's head from pulling free.

Then some grownup counts down, "Three, two, one, GO!"

And, with go, you swing your axe/machete/knife down upon the neck.

And, the chickens all run like mad.

Whichever chicken gets the farthest wins.

I mean, you don't actually win anything. All the chickens go into a pot of boiling water over a kerosene furnace to be parboiled and have all of its feather ripped off but, nonetheless, for a few seconds, the kid with the winning chicken was a hero.

And, then you go catch some more.
 
2017-03-04 11:48:01 PM  
When I was about seven we were on my uncles farm  when my parents decided to put me on a horse that was tied to a clothes line pole. The horse started walking around the pole and the clothes line hit me right in the neck. That was the first and last time I was on a horse.
 
2017-03-04 11:55:39 PM  
img.fark.netView Full Size
 
2017-03-04 11:55:41 PM  

uncleacid: When I was about seven we were on my uncles farm  when my parents decided to put me on a horse that was tied to a clothes line pole. The horse started walking around the pole and the clothes line hit me right in the neck. That was the first and last time I was on a horse.


I grew up riding horses. My sister had a horse, Texas Girl. My neighbors had horses, Sid, and I forget Venicia's horse's name. There were other neighborhood horses but, those were the three I rode most.

I was like 8 or 10 years old, had been saddling horses for a few years, riding them for a few more than that, when my sister wanted to enter Texas Girl into a competition but, she had some medical issue preventing her from riding that year in the county fair.

So, I was voluntold to ride.

No problem. Texas Girl was good with me and I was good with her so, my sister entered us into the riding competition (I forget what it was called. It wasn't dressage or anything. We rode Western and just had to do some dumb tricks like trot and canter and a small jump and shiat like that).

Anyway, we get to the 'starting line' thingy and the horse next to us nips at Texas Girl.

Texas Girl was farking pissed and kicked the air behind us.

The judge didn't see the nip but, she damned sure saw Texas Girl kick.

Instantly disqualified and, my sister blamed me.
 
2017-03-05 12:00:16 AM  
I love animals, but I am squeamish to the point of fainting at the first hint of needles or blood or innards, so my husband is the go-to guy for medical emergencies at our house, veterinary or otherwise.

We had a LaMancha wether goat, Bart, who was just the bees' knees.  We got him because our property was overrun with blackberry brambles when we bought it and we wanted a brush hog that didn't operate on gasoline.  He was smart, friendly, ate tons of brush, loved beer.  When Bart was a couple of years old, some friends were visiting with their lab mix and in the blink of an eye the dog (normally a laid-back, well-behaved creature) launched herself at Bart and latched on to his throat.  It took four of us whaling on the dog to get her to let go, and Bart was left with an ugly neck wound that, despite best efforts to clean, became infected.

The vet instructed us to administer penicillin G injections, so we got needles and syringes from the farm store and I held Bart's collar while my husband gave him the daily shots.  Finding a good site for an IM injection was challenging; Bart was not a meaty fellow and we tried to alternate site so as not to be poking him in a spot already sore from a previous injection.

The infection had him feeling pretty bad, so when he got stuck with the needle each day he'd sort of just sigh and wander off slowly after I let go of his collar.  It looked like it was a pretty easy procedure and after a few days I thought maybe I could overcome my own fear of needles and be a better goat owner by learning to give the shot.

I told my husband he should hold Bart and I'd give the shot.  He was skeptical (he's the guy who waits patiently for me to regain consciousness after every blood draw) but gave me some tips.  I filled the syringe, popped the needle through Bart's skin into his stringy shoulder, and slowly injected the dose.  Bart didn't even flinch.  And then it was done--it was that easy!  I thought, I can't believe what a nancy I have been about this stuff.  I'm not afraid of needles!  I am a friend to all animals--a regular friggin' St. Francis of Assisi.  I...I could go back to school...I COULD BE A VET.  YEAH.  I have *got* this.

So the next day, when it was time for Bart's shot, I confidently said, "I've got this."  I prepared the shot, and while my husband held Bart's collar I squatted down and popped the needle into Bart's stringy hind leg, and Bart shot straight up in the air and screamed like a person being burnt alive--mmmAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAA-AAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAA!!!, with his mouth wide open and his tongue stiicking out--and ran off with the syringe dangling from his hindquarter and I fell backward in the mud.

"Welp," we said, "I guess he's better."

And that was the end of my short career as a livestock veterinarian.

Bart lived to be fifteen years old, a ripe old age for a goat.  Sweet old thing.  I loved him.
img.fark.netView Full Size
 
2017-03-05 12:45:48 AM  
But you fark one goat...
 
2017-03-05 12:51:33 AM  

Barry McCockner: But you fark one goat...


mmmAAAAAAAAAAAAA-AAA-AAAA-AAAAAAAA-AAAAAA!!!
img.fark.netView Full Size
 
2017-03-05 01:01:47 AM  
Our chickens run the back yard when they are out.  They chase our cat away, and the dog gives them a wide berth too. They're city chickens though, the latest being 3 Brown Leghorns and 1 White Leghorn. We had 5, but one of the white ones was eating the eggs, so she had a date with the crockpot.

We've had chickens just about as long as we've been at this place.  Always four, but we rotate out two birds at a time, so we always have two young and two older chickens. Integration time is always interesting.  We divide up the run a bit after the chicks have grown old enough to be outside, and it allows them access to the coop as well as escape from the older hens.  They have their own food and water too. Eventually they get the pecking order sorted out.

Another funny thing too is there is always at least one hen that will move the eggs from one nest box to the other.  This latest group has one that kicks the fake ceramic egg we have in there out of the nest box (but leaves the real ones), and another chicken that will lay her eggs wherever that fake egg is.
 
2017-03-05 01:03:45 AM  
Roman Fyseek: The rule was that we could not run within 10 yards of the road. It was a 50-mph highway so, the risk was pretty bad. The kids could gang up on the chickens in any way we thought would work just so long as we stopped 10 yards before the highway.

Chickens.  A road.  There has to be a joke in here somewhere.
 
2017-03-05 02:11:28 AM  
My first time teaching English in Taiwan, it was a quasi-rural small town. On two different occasions, I disabled a big cockroach without killing it. And the ants came marching two by two hurrah, to eat the cockroach alive. Fascinating and schadenfreude all the way. When the morning came, nothing left but an exoskeleton.
 
2017-03-05 03:23:54 AM  
A friend had a right bastard of a murderous rooster he named the End of Days. He got way too much amusement out of yelling "AHHHHH! THE END OF DAYS APPROACHES!" whenever it suddenly tore around a corner and tried to kill someone. Which was often.

Apparently it's chicken stories today.

One of my seasonal rituals is stopping by the local ranch supply store in spring. They set out a bunch of galvanized steel feeding troughs and fill 'em with baby cute things - different breeds of chicks, ducklings, baby bunnies - it's a stupid amount of adorable tiny peeping sounds and soft downy feathers and fuzzy little bodies hopping clumsily around, generally making your eyeballs go heart-shaped. I like to spend a few minutes standing around going "Awwww!" before jumping back into the fray of things.

A few springs ago, I took a friend who'd never been. We were kneeling at a trough, grinning like idiots at a bunch of Easter-perfect yellow chicks, when a mom and her son walked up to do the same. The kid was about 4, and was enthralled and happy. My friend and I were enthralled and happy. The world was sunny and innocent, and all of a sudden the mom pats her son's shoulder and says, "That's where your chicken McNuggets come from!"

The kid nodded thoughtfully; friend and I were equally torn between being emotionally scarred and entirely cracking up, so pretty much ended up making tortured wheezing noises doing both.
 
2017-03-05 05:18:47 AM  
My late grandmother loved to go to the County Fair each year.  Young Earl would nearly go insane waiting to ride on the portable deathtraps on of the midway because we had to suffer through craft buildings and animal stalls first to appease Nana.

Scattered throughout the horse barn were fire fighting stations, including one next to the stall of a very large Clydesdale which read "Fire Hose" in huge red letters.  As grandma took in the majesty of the giant creature, she looked at us and said "Fire Hose, that's an interesting name."  My sister and I, already in "silly" mode, went into Phase III snickering and avoiding eye contact with each other.  As if on cue, "Fire Hose" achieved a majestic erection and grandma continued without smiling, "But it makes sense."

I tell that story to anyone who will listen when we're at the County Fair.  I lead the league in courtesy laughs received.
 
2017-03-05 07:00:34 AM  
I was walking back to my car following a day fishing when I spotted a sheep in a drainage ditch, up to its neck in water. It was stuck in weeds and not struggling. Being the soft-as-shiat idiot I am, I got down in the water and dragged the poor animal to the bank. A saturated sheep is bloody heavy, and this bastard wasn't helping at all - I think that it had just given up.

Anyway, I got it to the edge and half pulled, half pushed the bloody thing on to dry land (my pal Tony did actually help with this bit). It eventually realised that it was alive and shook itself almost like a dog would, covering me from head to toe with greasy lanolin-infused liquid. When I got home it took me about an hour in the shower to clean off.

When i went down to the pub that night, all my beer was paid for. Tony, bless him, knew the farmer and told him of my 'heroics'.
 
2017-03-05 08:32:12 AM  

kimwim: Needless to say, I did not specialize in power went I got into engineering school.


New York?


Ohio.
 
2017-03-05 09:11:25 AM  
Startled a horse and got kicked in the balls. Luckily it was the horse's front leg and it caught my thigh first. Left a nasty bruise and my nuts hurt for the rest of the day, but nothing permanent.
 
2017-03-05 09:30:35 AM  
When my kids were young, they had irrational fears about vampires and sharks (inland lakes) and such.  To illustrate the silliness of such things, I took on the persona of being deathly afraid of cows and chipmunks that hunt in pairs.  One chipmunk is fine, if you see two, you run for your life!

Well, when the internet arrived, I learned that more people die from cow attacks each year than sharks.  Hiking the AT last year, I met a whole lot of people concerned about black bears... and again, the statistics show black bears once again are less dangerous than cows.  Finally to the action part of the story!  Two places on the southern AT had the trail go straight through herds of cows.  I just walked on through and kept away from the calves.

/That's the story, sorry, even I'm bored now.
 
2017-03-05 09:33:53 AM  
My grandpa had a bull that decided to use the tractor he was sitting on as a scratching post. Damn near tipped it over. I'm pretty sure that was the same bull that he bent a fence post on by smacking it on the head because it was snorting at him and pawing the ground. That bull got sold shortly after that.
 
2017-03-05 09:40:48 AM  
Not my story but my mother's.

My parents lived on a dairy farm in Coosawhatchie, SC. My dad had about 200 cows that he kept and my mom ran the house. Every morning, my dad would be up at 3, out by 4 to start milking and tending to the cows. He worked really hard to take good care of my mom and two sisters at a job that was pretty grueling.

My mom is, was, and always will be a night owl. She stays up late, reading or doing crosswords. At the dairy farm, they had a rancher style house with a big plate glass window. The living room was laid out as such that the couch was under the window facing into the house. Every night she would settle in on that couch and read.

One night, she sat on the couch reading some creepy true crime book. (She has a penchant for Stephen King and true crime stuff, but this was well before King even wrote his first book.) She was knee-deep in blood and guts when she heard "tink tink. tink.  tink." She didn't see the cat and had just gotten to the juicy bits of the novel so she went back to reading.

"Tink.     Tink tink tink."

She looked around the room, looked back into the kitchen, and she didn't see anything. "Tink!"

She turned around, and looked out the plate glass window, and came face to face with the giant eye of a monster of immense proportion. She shrieked, jumped off the couch and into the hallway, ran down the hall, and LEAPT into the bed where my dad was sleeping. He then launched up out of bed (he's always been a 'jump into action' kind of guy), and ran into the living room to face the monster. Then he started laughing.

The cows had gotten out. One was standing in the front of the house, eating the plants my mom had put in the garden under the window. My dad went outside and whistled, and the cows made their way back into the barn. He came back inside the house, reassured my mom, and went back to sleep for another hour or two. They lived on the farm for about another year before they moved back to my hometown. There were no other "cow incidents".

We have never let mom live this down. I wasn't even born at the time, and I still give her flack for it. (The first time I ever saw "Night of the Living Dead", I called her and said "they're coming to get you, Barbara!" and she hung up on me.) Such a loving family. 😄
 
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