2006-Jan-27
CAE
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I'm gonna be doing a series on Caprine Arthritic Ecephalitis in goats
on my blog. Just as a disclaimer, I know next to nothing of the
so-called "disease" in and of myself, but to the extent of my ability
to research, decipher, expound, regergitate and plagurize along
with what little and limited experience we have with it, I'll be
putting something together entirely boring no doubt but perhaps
informational at best. This is that disclaimer along with a plea
for any useful input/experience any of you may have with CAE.
Now, you'll have till Feb. 6th, cause I'm doing nothing until my
Seahawks are world champs and the StEAlers are world chumps.
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2005-Dec-28
Big Bad Boy Bleu
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Our goats had a crush on me for a few days there. I didn't know what to get my wife for Christmas and it was getting down to crunch time. There were so many choices....lets see, hmmm. Considering she took out a fence post and an oak barrel with a mini van of all things,( and that's just the solid objects on our property and does not take into account the concrete post she hit in the church parking lot causing a crater size implosion on the lift gate,) I could of got a Trunk Monkey to watch for navigational hazards when backing. But then directional causalities proved to be indiscriminate when she took out our mailbox in my truck...going forward. Now I'll pause here and add something to dispell any misplaced compulsatory reflexive reactions you may have that might lead you to believe that I am picking on her unjustly. Or that I am being.....what's the word?.... insensitive. I don't believe in luck, but in liue of any better adjectively proper word, her luck hasn't been the best. For example, I drive like a maniac...a horrible driver, but I don't get in wrecks whereas she is the posterchild for a good driver, excellent driver, yea definatley an excellent driver, and she hits things. Furthermore, I get pulled over 4 times a month for going 20 mph over the limit, but have never got a ticket. Even after telling them the truth when they ask me those belittling questions " Good morning sir, do you have any idea how fast you were going?" "Not a clue, wasn't even paying attention." "Well, when you passed me I clocked you going 78 mph." "No kidding, I didn't even see you and I am usually pretty good at spotting you guys." "Licsense. insurance and registration please." "Well, here's my licsense, but I have no idea where I put the registration and I think I forgot to put the new insurance card in the glove compartment." " OK, I'm going to give you a warning today, but slow it down and drive careful Mr. Weller." "Hey, sure thing, thanks." Dalyn....... she goes 3 mph over the limit over a distance spanning no more than 50 yards, and it happens to be in a school zone................ONCE....EVER....yep...gets pulled over and ticketed, big time. Or more recently; she HATES the dentists. Not any particular one....all of them. So if some medical procedure she has had done is to fail, well, you know, it's sure to involve her teeth. She loses a crown and now has to have some dastardly dental procedure done she is convinced is a resurected form of ancient Greecian torture administered by someone she is convinced is trying to kill her. Me? Glad you asked....haven't had a cavity since 1976, never felt better. So, to pull this story back to the point and somehow make it tie in with my opening statement AND somehow relate it to homesteading, I'm sitting there a few days before Christmas with nothing, nadda, ziltch. Trunk Monkey....out,.... no good..too sarcastic.... they shed in the summer. A new crown for her tooth,.....not really all that endearing, plus she'll think I'm part of the "conspiracy." So I decide to get her what every woman wishes a guy would give her....that's right....a womans best friend. A big nubian buck in full rut that smells like musty cheap cologne and is interested in anything with four legs that moves. I pick this thing up a couple of hours away a few days before Christmas and am pretty dang happy with myself and excited for her too. Only thing is I didn't really think this thing through, cause this aint something you can hide in your sock drawer till Christmas morning . Furthermore, it stinks. Goat people, you know what I'm saying here.....Goat,.... buck,...... rut. Goats are odiferously induced into "marriage". They have scent glands on their foreheads. (if you have a receding hair line, just think, it could be worse.) and they rub on everything! Now I stink. Deer have their scent glands on their lower legs. Much more "suave'" if you ask me. Anywho, I've got nowhere to put this 220lb raging hairy hormone and I smell like a goat in rut myself. Which, by the way, just doesn't seem to have the same effect on a human wife that it does for a goat "wife" ........in case you were wondering. Besides, me coming home smelling like another goat could be big trouble for me. What would Dalyn think, it could ruin everthing. But walking into our barn with our does, the way they looked at me....well, I don't mind telling you, I was quite flattered. But I find this place to board the thing for a few days and it's only down the road and now only have the smell to deal with. So what do you do??? Just act like you don't know what she's talking about. "Doug, you stink. What's that smell?" "I don't smell anything" "I do and it smells." "I always smell like that, you know I'm sensitive about it." (See how I turn it around on her. :) ) "Smells like a buck." "You're insane." "So??" "Well, that's odd, we don't have a buck, you need a break from this goat thing honey." "Doug, I sme...." "Hey, wanna watch the Seahwaks/Colts game with me tomorrow? What's for dinner? SSHHH...I think I hear one of the kids crying. I gotta go to the store, be back in a little while." Conversation over, just like that. So, I don't know how this ended up being such a discombobulated and longwinded, rambling discourse on a miriad of truly unrelated events, but there you have it. I got the wif a goat. His name is Boy Bleu, registered with Grand Champion blood lines and Old Glory something or another. I don't know, but he likes them does!!! |
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