Baby Meatballs has had a pretty nutty day. Oh, how we flip flopped on the decision to castrate him or not but we arrived to the conclusion that it would be in the best interest of all involved not to have a potentially dangerous bull in our midst with a potentially icky Oedipus-complex. We got psyched to do the deed ourselves but luckily our really, really, really kind friends, owners of many a cow, offered to come over and help us out.
So I milked Daisy while Joanne pinned down Meatballs, Craig kept his legs down and Ben attached some special elastic bands to his, well, meatballs. It didn't appear to phase him much. Apparently it's suppose to feel like you have a ponytail tied on too tight. But, like, between your legs. I'm not asking how people know this. Circulation is cut off and then, over the next few weeks, the prairie oysters just kind of shuck themselves off. No blood or open wound. Still, this part of farm life is what trips me out and wonder if I'm cut out for this reality checking. At the same time it tickles me to see what a happy little guy he is, his sweet set up here and the love that happens between him and his mama all day long.
The cutest moments happen when I reunite Daisy and her little Motherboy after her morning of grazing in the backyard. She lets us know when she wants back in the pasture by standing at the gate trying to kiss her baby through the holes in the wire. Then they usually run up to each other and gently butt heads for a bit before he goes to town nursing. So sweet! I tried to captured this today but Baby had no time for headbutting formalities. He just went straight for boob! Hmmm... feels like I can relate somehow!