Skip to main content

It ain't no thang

FarmWife took me on my first shooting adventure yesterday.

Revolver? Check.
Ammunition? Check.
Cross draw holster? Check.
His and hers earplugs? Check.
Packable rope halter? Check.
Cotton lead rope? Check.
First aid kit? Check.

Here was the thing FarmWife planned to do: she planned to ride me to a safe target shooting range in yonder hills. She planned to dismount, tie me safely by my rope halter and cotton lead rope (guaranteed to break before my neck does!), stuff all four of our ears with sound-dampening matter, walk twenty paces off, then load and discharge her .357. She then planned to turn about and examine me for signs of panicking, freaking out, maiming myself, jeopardizing life and limb, etcetera.

Here was the thing that actually happened: FarmWife rode me to a safe target shooting range in yonder hills. She dismounted, tied me safely to a VERY sappy tree (I'm covered in pine-scented goo!), stuffed all four of our ears with obnoxious fluff, walked twenty paces off, then loaded and discharged her .357. She turned to find me saying, "ho, hum." I could not have been cooler had I been a cucumber in the shade.

FarmWife, do not forget: I was once an elk huntin' mule. There is nothing scary about watching you plink with your little revolver. In fact, the only difference between this business and that is that I don't have to carry a corpse home at the end of THESE adventures. Oh, and there's the business of the earplugs. I don't believe I wore those before. They tickle, and I would have remembered them.

Fen

Comments

  1. KDJune 23, 2011 at 5:26 PM

    That's awesome FB ! My sweet mare still gets 3 inches taller whenever there is gunfire close by. Maybe you could talk to her. I've been practicing cracking a whip off her back (which is pretty darn loud).

    ReplyDelete
  2. BifJune 23, 2011 at 7:25 PM

    If a corpse is EVER involved in any portion of my activities with Mother, there will be another corpse before the training session is over...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks in Advance for Your Mulish Opinion!

Popular Posts

Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

Here, for your edification, are the X-rays of dear Paisley's leg. There is, apparently, no new break (since his Monday siezure) but there is, of course, a great deal of abnormality caused by years of living with a shortened ulna. His pronounced lameness, the vet says, may temporarily improve. Unlike me, Fenway Bartholomule, poor cloud dog can't expect much in the way of a full recovery.   Not having the $$$$ for surgery to fuse the joint, we are working on making some sort of rigid splint to support the limb and prevent further degeneration. That is, the humans (with their space-age material inventions and their opposable thumbs) are working on making a splint; I am working on giving cloud dog brayful looks of support and encouragement every time he totters into the yard to relieve himself. As always, he fears me (me?!) and keeps his distance.  Ears to you,  Fenway
2 comments
Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

I, Fenway Bartholomule, am a vegan: of course I only eat plants, not people! My human is too, so I'm sharing my blog with her today so that she can participate in the 2014 Virtual Vegan Potluck ! When you're done perusing the recipe for these delicious spring rolls, click "back" or "forward" for the entire potluck experience! Virtual Vegan Potluck: Spring Roll Appetizers Beautiful? Check. Healthy? Check. Delicious? Check. Easy? Check. Fancy? Check. Quick to clean up after? Check. Vegan? OF COURSE! If you're looking for something portable, colorful, and crowd-pleasing for your next potluck, look no further than these simple vegan spring rolls! The best part? You can substitute ANYTHING. I never make these the same way twice, so play around with cilantro, kale, cabbage, scallions, or whatever you think sounds good! Ingredients Veggie mix: 2 carrots (grated) 4 oz mung bean sprouts 1/3 cup chopped peanuts (raw, or roasted and salted) or ...
11 comments
Continued . . .

Catastrophy

This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. I was going to entertain you with more haiku today, but something terrible has happened. I need your support. Today was supposed to be a regular spa day—a nice little hoofie trim, a fresh mane roach, an ear massage, and a handful of sunflower seeds (for shine). Instead of merely taking care of my beauty routine, however, FarmWife spent a full hour in contemplation of and attention to my overall physique. The upshot? A revision of my condition from Plump to Obese. (Her actual words, upon removing my blanket for the first time in a few days, were "Oh my God! You've ballooned!") She has decided that my fatness has become a health risk, and has resolved to exercise me as often as possible. It gets dark at 4:30. Her husband gets home at 5:30. She has small children and no sitter. This, my friends, means that I will end up being longed. Longed at the end of a stupid, smelly old rope. Forced to walk and trot...
14 comments
Continued . . .

Mowers and raccoons and steers, oh my!

In my informal Facebook survey I learned that the majority of Friends of the Muleness want more stories—All the Stories!—and that the story they want most of all is the story of the raccoon.  Farmwife says it's hardly a story at all, and that it would be something to talk about had the raccoon been in my barn, or touching my body, or gesticulating at me with it's bizarrely human little fingers to indicate that it would like a little snack or help with its homework. Alas, this is not that kind of story.  Before I tell you about the raccoon I have to go backwards and tell you that I am feeling very good in my body these days. My track through the forest has been expanded, my laminitis is at bay, and my health has been very largely excellent since I came here to the Atomic Ranch in December. I am feeling so good, in fact, that I have been cleared for long walks around the neighborhood! Puck, Farmwife, and I sometimes make the long loop up Saratoga and back around Fox Spit, which ...
1 comment
Continued . . .