Anyway, my very first job was on a dairy farm as a go-fer. I was 13, running around on a farm, hooking up the milking machines to udders, shovelling the poo away, walking through cornfields getting my clothing and skin shredded by leaves, and all in all having a wonderful time.
I remember vividly (this was ten years ago), that one day I went to begin hooking up the udder-suckers and learned something new. I had to walk the length of the barn to begin at the other side, and as I was walking past one cow, her tail fell off. Just BLAM right in my path. I immediately went to find the farmer to tell him I broke one of the cows. "Oh no no no," he said. "We bob the tails so the cows don't thrash us when we're trying to work on them!"
"How do they keep the flies away?" I asked, naively.
"Well...they don't! I guess they don't!" he replied.
But if I think about it, I can watch a slow-motion replay of a cow's TAIL FALLING OFF RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Sometimes it gives me 'Nam-like flashbacks. This man thought it was good business sense to put a rubber band on the root of the tails so they would die and fall off.
Don't get me started on the giant poo vat in the ground that you walked over via a plank across the middle. I wonder if the guy before me was lost forever to those murky depths...
-Becky
This message has been edited. Last edited by: kim g,
