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The Lying Pelvises
February 22, 2008Anybody need a pelvis?
Cuz there'' two lying in the front yard at our farm.
The young Lab puppy, Red, has been on some kind of sick, twisted scavenger hunt lately. The good news is that he has stopped dragging the hose from the old Shop Vac that was in the garage around.
But now, he's all about bones, and his favorite appear to be pelvises. (Or is the plural pelvi? Or pelvuses?)
Apparently, he goes out into the pasture during the day and proudly drags back whatever he can find. I'm no vet, but I think we've got one coyote and maybe a wild hog pelvis.
Any takers?
Posted by Lara Richards at 08:47 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Carcass
February 21, 2008It was a horrible oversight, but I guess I forgot to feed the farm dogs the other day.
Before you start leveling PETA-filled complaints at me or something like that, let me explain.
First of all, it's not like it's convenient.
The minute I open up the feed bin, two big dogs plus my baby calf -- who's weighing it at around 500 pounds now -- come barreling up. (Cherry the Calf's food is in the same bin, so she thinks she's about to get food, too.) I
It becomes an "American Gladiator" style fight to the finish to get the food out, the bin lid shut and make it to the food dishes before one of three animals tries to push me over and take all the food for themselves.
And then there’s the dog's food dish location. The dish, which is actually an old produce drawer from a long-since-running fridge, isn't what you’d say easy to reach either. It’s several feet under the trampoline.
The reason: Well, like every domesticated cow I know that thinks it's a dog, Cherry has developed a taste for dog food. She was eating the dog food as fast as we could put it out. It'd give her a mean tummy ache, not to mention some nasty, nasty cowpies, but it didn't stop her.
So, my Pop and I devised a plan. We started putting the dog food pan under the trampoline. The dogs can easily reach it, but it's out of Cherry’s grasp. But, to reach it to refill it for the dogs, we either have to grab a hoe from the garage and pull it out or crawl under there to reach it.
Feeding the dogs is inconvenient, yes, but all of these are merely excuses.
The point of the story is that I guess I forgot to feed the dogs the other day, and so they gave me -- what can only be termed -- as a bloody "what for."
I knew something was up the minute I walked outside that morning. The elder dog, BD, came running up, his right front paw a faint tint of red.
Hold on, a minute, I thought to myself. That looks exactly like . . . blood.
The young pup, Red, barked from across the yard and came running up with something between his teeth
Carcass. A bloody, freshly dead rabbit.
I searched for excuses. These two sweet, harmless dogs weren't natural born killers.
And that's when I realized their food bin was completely empty, licked bone dry. I fetched it up, filled it, and went back inside, away from the carcass. I hoped that the dogs' freshly filled bin would quickly erase all memory of their wild game.
But those two dogs fought and gnarled on that damn carcass all weekend. They thought it was extra cool anytime I was outside to bring it right up to me, partly as a gift, but more likely as a reminder that if I starved them again, they'd take matters into their own paws.
I felt horrible. Pop tried to allay my guilt by pointing out that there was no way those two slow dogs hunted down and killed a healthy, live rabbit. He guessed the rabbit was already dead to begin with.
But it didn’t matter to me. My dogs are officially carnivores, and it's all my fault.
Posted by Lara Richards at 08:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
Yak and Cheese
February 20, 2008It's always somewhat of a crapshoot going back into the pantry at our farmhouse. Sure, me and my mom have tried to clean out the cupboard from time to time over the years, but it just seems we always miss a few things.
A while back, I reached into the pantry and came out with a blue box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, a staple in my carb-heavy existence.
I cooked the noodles like normal and then poured in the cheese, and something just didn't look right.
Now it's not like the powdered cheese ever really looks or tastes like cheese to begin with. It always has a certain twang. It's a bright neon orange color like no cheddar or Monterey jack combo that exists in nature. These are simply a given.
But the cheese from this box was burnt orange, sorta like UT had manufactured its own brand or something.
For some reason, though, most likely simple hunger, the odd look -- and smell, I might add -- of the mac didn't stop me from taking a bite.
I can't even begin to describe the wretchedness that powdered, rotten old cheese tastes like. I quickly put it outside for the dogs to eat and even THEY turned up their nose at it.
(Mind you, these are dogs that eat their own poop.)
And so I looked at the expiration date, something I don't think I've ever done with the blue box delicacy. I didn't even know mac and cheese HAD an expiration date.
But it did. It so very, very, very did.
Posted by Lara Richards at 02:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
