If you are invited to my home on a Sunday evening, and happen to have military or medical or vet or mechanic experience, or if you have a darling English accent, you may be asked to castrate my bulls. Seriously (and thank you). Sometimes you just need a group of friends to give you the courage to man up-- or man down in this case.
What are friends for?
Yes, this was our Sunday evening fun. My friend explained that maybe the Ox was in the mire. :)
Two (actually three) green elastic bands, one castration elastic band stretcher tool, two sweet baby bulls who had no idea what was coming, seven helpful adults, and fouteen inquisitive children-- led to one educational evening.
Another friend of mine is a cow vet and he assured me that banding these bulls would be "easy". That's what they all say. I'm certain his whole family laughed at my panicked answering machine messages-- "What if the bull's man stuff isn't there?! Um, what if we accidentally missed a part, or only got one of two parts? Is castrating two bulls the night before my husband and older boys leave for a week a bad idea? Call me back! Thanks." I actually think they're out of town.
Todd and I watched "Alaska the Last Frontier" so we knew exactly what we were doing. Plus- we all referred to a "how to castrate baby bulls" You Tube video. Haha. My life just makes me laugh!
They really did handle things so well.
And, to my new friend Ken- it was nice to meet you.
I'm sorry my cow pooed on your jeans.
Please come back soon.
(I have a video of the affair on Instagram and Facebook. You don't want to miss this...) haha.
Wow. What a lovely post to follow my feminist rant.