Saturday, August 16, 2008
...things went decidedly southward.
Finally. I caught Chops to shear him. It was a spur of the moment thing where I took a bit of feed out to them and he let me grab him by the horns. Of course, I didn't have a rope with me to make a halter so I had to drag him to the porch by the horns. This is the thing about sheep. You can lead them quite easily by the neck or by a halter, but the horns--the handy thing to grab onto--causes them to dig their heels in and fight you the entire time. It's a contest of strength. I won in this case.
I get to this point in taking this enormous fleece off of him and I'm really excited because I think I may be able to take it in one big piece--when...
Okay, let me explain about Mutton. Mutton is the other, older sheep. Both are wethers--neutered boy sheep. Mutton, though he has no reason to, is in rutt. He'll actually go after anything. If the dogs didn't give him a hard time, he'd be up for a date with them. Anyway, Chops--the younger, pretty boy sheep--seems to be the object of Mutton's affections this go round(it was a goat, last time).
...Mutton comes charging down the hill baaing lustfully. Chops turns and baas back at him something like, "Aaack, leaf me lone!" Chops is at a considerable disadvantage, half-dressed and restrained by the horns--it's a recipe for disaster and he knows it, I know it and I've left the dogs inside, so no help from that quarter.
Before I know it, I'm in the middle of lanolin-drenched sheep on sheep homosexual sex. Chops is so not into Mutton "that way". I mean, they're friends and all, but Mutton is out of control. The clippers fall on the deck turning themselves on, I'm beating Mutton off Chops, Chops is bellowing, "Aaack! Leaf me lone!", the dogs are barking inside and I'm trying to get to the door to let Max out. Finally, I make it to the door, Chops by the horn in one hand--pushing Mutton off him--and Max comes to the rescue.
Needless to say, the fleece is no longer in one piece. Chops is so upset, he's got diarrhea over part of it. Fiasco. That's the only word for it. This fall may be the year to do the Kentucky barbecue experiment--with Mutton.
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And now for some Porn and Donuts!
If you are just joining the SMB and are wondering what Serial Story Saturday is about--I'm serializing a novella I'm writing called Porn and Donuts and have been running it every Saturday over the summer. You'll have to back track to pick up the entire story. There is always a blog post in front of each installment to foil the sploggers.
She pulled into the parking lot of a Krispy-Kreme store and pulled around the back. The big “Hot” light glowed red in the front of the store. She backed the truck into a line of identical vehicles.
“I wonder what they have coming out of the fryer?”
“Will you focus for a minute, Lucius? How much money did we get?”
“Looks like about fifteen thousand. That ought to get Papaw a right nice stone.”
“Okay, this is the plan.” Kellie let the truck’s engine stall. “We are going to go in there and wait until the heat dies down. They won’t think to look for us there.”
Lucius went to the back and got his duffle bag and Lola. Kellie took the bag with the cash, zipped it up then crammed a fistful of bills in her pocket. Lucius moved towards the front of the van.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Kellie asked.
“What?” Lucius looked confused.
“You can’t take that damn thing in there!”
Lucius could see her reasoning. Lola was perhaps the most easily recognized of the three of them.
“But I can’t just leave her behind! I like her. I stole her fair and square.”
“Okay. Fine. But leave it here and we’ll come back for it when we leave.”
Lucius secured Lola in the passenger seat with the seat belt. Kellie pulled him down from the truck and they walked to the side entrance of the Krispy-Kreme.
The shop smelled of a mélange of grease, sugar and yeast, with a comforting perked coffee undertone. A conveyer belt clicked along behind a glass partition while another machine injected fillings into the filled doughnuts. Several large rolling bakery racks held cooling glazed doughnuts. It was modern, shiny and brightly lit. The white menu board was backlit over the server's work area. The trademark aqua green and red accented the black and white checked floor giving the place a hint of nineteen-fifties diner.
The usual sprinkling of parents with kids, college students, bleary-eyed shift workers and a few homeless were clustered around the booths. The counter, however, was free.
Lucius and Kellie came in with their duffel bags, like a pair of travelers just off the bus. A few of the customers glanced at them when they sat at the counter. A pudgy waitress in a paper hairnet came over to take their order.
“Welcome to Krispy-Kreme!” She chirped, revealing a mouth full of silver orthodontia. “What can I get you?”
“Coffee and two glazed, please.” Kellie ordered.
“And you?” The waitress’ eyes strayed to Lucius’ shirtfront, adorned with the sticky remains of Lola’s undergarment. She had seen stranger things at the doughnut shop so she did not mention it.
Lucius looked up at the menu items. “Ummm, Coffee and--what’s hot?”
“We have apple-filled and glazed hot right now.” The girl rattled off.
“Okay, I’ll have three of each.”
Kellie cut her eyes at Lucius.
“Lucius, sweetie, why don’t you go to the men’s room and get yourself cleaned up.” She stroked his thigh as an added incentive. “See if you can get that thing off your shirtfront.”
Her hand on his thigh delayed his ability to comprehend what she said.
“Lucius?”
“Oh. Right. On my way.” Lucius shoved his duffle bag under the stool before leaving.
He opened the door to the men’s room and confronted his worst nightmare.
Labels: depraved sheep, Serial Story Saturday, sheep
3 Comments:
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- Loretta said...
8/17/2008Poor Chops!! I am glad Max came to the rescue. I've been reading your blog for several weeks and look forward to "Porn & Donuts" every Sat. Now I am wondering what was in the restroom!- Mallow said...
8/17/2008Wow! That's one action packed Saturday.- Galadriel said...
4/24/2009Ooof. I wonder if perhaps Mutton wasn't properly castrated.