This has been a big weekend at Rosebriar Farm.
On Nashville’s Craigslist I found a lady giving away some pot belly pigs; this always makes me wonder why? Are they mean?, Are they escape artists?, etc. In this particular situation they live in Hillsboro and the husband commutes to Murfreesboro, everyday to work. They are depleting the animals and selling the farm. I wanted the Holstein steer however they have plans for him to move to the freezer. I did pick up one female pot bellied pig, she is about 1-1/2 yrs old and weighs about 125 pounds. As with most of my animals Jen gave her a literary name; Ophelia (Hamlet’s Lover). How fitting.
Hamlet (left) Ophelia (right)
We also took the opportunity to pick up another turkey because Tom’s days are numbered, literally. Unless the Governor calls (my cell phone will be off, just in case), he is scheduled to die the evening of Tuesday, November 23rd.
The new turkey (left) and Tom, Thanksgiving dinner 2010 (left).
But wait there’s more.
As, I mentioned before most of our pets have literary names, this young lady however came with a name. It could be considered a literary name if you think back to first grade to the Dick and Jane books, the younger sister’s name was, Sally.
Sally has sort of a sad story, she was one of a set of triplets, whose mother died at birth. The other two received most of the colostrum , from the mother before she died. Sally is a runt, she is now seven months old and only about half the size of her siblings. That may have worked out best for her; she is too small to slaughter and also to small to breed, therefore we were asked to take her for a pet.
So here is our new lamb, Sally.
Sally meeting her new friends, Romeo and Maestro.
2 comments:
I love all the new residents.
You shall not hear any complaints from moi about eating Tom for Thanksgiving - - - I still remember watching my dad chop off a chicken's head, then the headless body dancing around the yard for a few minutes until it dropped, then the whole process of dipping it in boiling water, defeathering, and baking.
YUM - - - what a great dinner she made!
So, you see, I GET it and shan't be phoning PETA unless it be to tell them how silly and foolish I find all their little diatribes.
I admire your little farm with all its feathered and furry inhabitants, but am certainly glad I do not have to CARE for all of them.
I still remember some frosty 4:30 AMs on my Aunt and Uncle's farm, togging out in our chore clothes and going to the barn to "help" with milking. Oh I do use the term help very loosely here. It was A LOT of work in pretty stinky conditions.
"City" girls don't make good farm hands. I use the term city pretty loosely here too since no one in their right mind considers a town of under 20,000 a city - - -
I am so glad you found the literary connection. I was trying to figure out how we could change her name and still teach it to her. hehe
Post a Comment