OUCH!

About 10 years ago I met a gentleman named Mark.  Under the category of "small world/6 degrees of separation, he is the brother of my sister's good friend.  He had a doe that was much too sweet to go to the butcher but their herd was too large and they were cutting back.  He had heard that I might be willing to give her a good home.  That was Ginger, the queen who is still the Matriarch of our herd.

Saint Francis is often called the "No Bull Capital of the World" because the bands which are used to castrate young calves were invented here.  Mark stopped by tonight after work armed with his bander and some bands.  His intention was to change the status of all of our little bucklings.  The two of us managed to catch and hold each of the little guys.

I felt so sorry for the little guys.  They cried and looked back to see what was biting them.  Several hours later they were still whimpering.  I was beginning to think they would be crying all night and would call in the coyotes but when I checked on them when I went to close the chickens in for the night they were finally sleeping and quiet.

By tomorrow they will have forgotten all about it.  It happens that way every time.

I'm a little sad, however, because I'm sure Kennecot could have made some beautiful babies.