Britt’s Wit: Pins, needles and memory lapses
As the month of fat flying cherubs comes to an end, and we’re all hoping March and calving can be friends.
I come to you with a story that’s mainly true and a little not, and a few pieces that I’ve forgot.
A vet and her husband were hauling hogs.
One to the butcher, two to a friend, and picking up bones for the dogs.
When rounding a corner and what should she spy from under her cap?
A perfectly whole porcupine, taking a little pavement nap!!
But with no place to turn a trailer, and many miles ahead,
The perfect reclaimed arts and crafts project was left for dead.
Her husband is a little of the romantic kind, and decided on the return trip to pick up the porcupine!
Carefully loaded and set down just through the stock trailer’s back gate, and this my friends is the future of much cussing and hate.
For five days later in the early morning twilight.
The vet would scream and cuss and be on the fight.
She would question their calf’s heritage, mother’s, and brain cell amount.
She’d cuss the old dog, the young dog, and a few other things she can’t count.
She was loading calves to make it early to the Tuesday sale, and why in the world would the calves not load and it was all going to hell!
When finally a lead calf let out a beller and jumped, his comrades following behind, did the memory of the St Valentines gift enter her mind.
The porcupine still quite stiff, looked to be a smiling a bit, as she rolled him out of the back of the trailer and wondered about her own wit?
Life is full of ups and downs and a few pokey scenes, but all and all the life of a rancher is quite serene.
So bless the market and the new calves hitting the ground, and may your love of the life and your wife continue to abound! F
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